


Darkening Horizons

by SwagWizardSupreme



Series: Darkening Horizons [1]
Category: RWBY
Genre: AU, F/F, More Powerful White Fang
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2019-11-03
Packaged: 2020-07-19 04:20:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 13
Words: 51,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19967944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SwagWizardSupreme/pseuds/SwagWizardSupreme
Summary: Team RWBY returns for their second year at Beacon Academy. However, the role of the Hunter is beginning to change, as is the state of the world around them. How far will they bend to the will of Ozpin, and to the Hunter's Duty? How much will they change to keep themselves from breaking? Volume 0 of the Darkening Horizons series. Also available on FF





	1. New Beginnings, New Realities

Train horn. Chainsaw. 

_“Finally, I get to kill a Schnee.”_

Weiss gasped and shot up, nearly bumping her head into the bed above her. 

_Wait, bed above me?_ Weiss thought in momentary confusion. Her muscles were tense, and she was ready to jump out of bed should any attacker make themselves known, but she quickly realized that she was in a familiar place. The RWBY dorm at Beacon Academy was silent, save for the snoring of their most fiery member, and the labored breathing of Weiss. The room was dark, and Weiss reached for her Scroll. The device’s glow forced her eyes to painfully readjust to the newfound lightsource, and the time displayed almost made her groan. 

Weiss was by no means an early riser. In fact, she was almost always the last to get out of bed, but waking from nightmares was something she’d become used to over summer break, although nightmares of the Mountain Glenn incident were infrequent and intense, making them hard to recover from. She was wide awake now, and was definitely not going back to sleep, regardless of the fact that her Scroll’s clock read 4:16AM. She carefully pushed her blankets off and rose to her feet, finding a familiar comfort in the hard wooden flooring of the dorm. The cold, unrelenting marble of Palace Schnee had never granted her such comfort.

She stealthily exited the RWBY dorm and began blearily walking to the library. Walking through the dimly lit halls of Beacon was like slipping into a pair of old shoes, and Weiss found that the path came more easily than she’d expected. Before she knew it, she was standing behind the short, wide, wood-and-glass panel doors of Beacon Academy’s library. As she entered, she found the massive room to be completely empty, save for the librarian. The librarian, a Mole Faunus with small, beady eyes magnified by the thick lenses of her glasses, looked up and smiled softly at Weiss before returning to whatever she was doing behind her desk.

The library’s carpeted floor did an excellent job of muffling the steps of her heels as she found her way to one of the dozens of empty tables, and sat at one of their gleaming white bench seats. The tension held in her body was almost completely erased as she took a deep breath of the library, inhaling the smell of real, _actual_ books, as opposed to the sterile, lifeless scent of her father’s library, which was full of Scroll-like data-slates which each held the collective knowledge of at least half of the Beacon library. They were far more efficient, both in cost and data storage, than real books, but they had none of the appeal that made Weiss love cracking open an old tome and studying its contents.

Weiss was so lost in her own head that she didn't even notice the only other person in the library, besides herself and the librarian, strolling up behind her and laying a hand on her shoulder. She nearly jumped out of her skin as she felt the warm touch against the fabric of her long-sleeved white pajama top, which Ruby had somehow convinced her to purchase after she complained about the uncomfortable fabric of her nightgown. She whirled around to face the villain who would _dare_ infiltrate her personal space. “What do you—”

Her words died in her throat as she found the face of her partner. Ruby Rose was smiling knowingly at her, her silver eyes somehow gleaming in the dim room. “Hey, Weiss.”

Weiss’ heart jumped a little at hearing her partner’s voice again. They hadn’t spoken when they’d arrived back at Beacon since they all got back at different times, and hearing her partner’s lilted tones again made her feel refreshed. Ruby’s joyful gaze became one of confusion, and Weiss realized she must’ve been staring. “Ruby,” she whispered, “What are you doing awake at this hour?”

Ruby cocked an eyebrow and smirked— _Dust, she’s spending too much time with her sister—_ while levelling an accusatory glare at her, “I could ask you the same thing, Weiss.”

Weiss was just about to give a witty retort, but it died on her tongue. “W-well, something woke me up.”

Ruby’s smile fell slightly, and her eyes became soft again. “Did you have a nightmare?”

Weiss broke eye contact with Ruby and waved a hand dismissively, “It doesn’t matter, why are you up this early?”

“You woke me up, Weiss. You’re not as quiet as you think.”

Weiss shrunk into herself. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

An arm wrapped around her shoulders as Ruby sat next to her. Had it been anyone else, Weiss would’ve scrambled away from the contact and probably struck the person who’d dared touch her, but spending a year as Ruby’s partner helped her get used to the constant physical affection, and she found that she actually missed it while alone at Palace Schnee over summer break. “It’s alright,” her partner whispered, “I don’t need much sleep.”

Weiss smiled softly at the comment, but didn’t reply. Instead, she pulled her Scroll from her pocket and opened it.

“What’cha doin’, Weiss?” Ruby asked, curiously peering at her partner’s scroll.

Weiss sighed. She may have grown more comfortable with her partner, but Ruby still had the capacity to be annoying. “Studying some notes I prepared yesterday. I wouldn’t be surprised if Oobleck or Goodwitch have a pop-quiz ready for us on our first day.”

Ruby made a little ‘Ooh’ sound before resting her head on Weiss’ shoulder and reading whatever was on her Scroll. “Do you mind me looking at your stuff?”

Weiss blinked incredulously. Ruby? Studying? _Willingly?_ Perhaps she’d been struck on the head while on summer vacation in Patch. “What? Why?”

Weiss felt Ruby shrug. “You’re probably right about the pop-quiz thing, and I want my first grade of my second year to be a perfect one!” She raised a fist in joy. 

Weiss, still confused by this turn of events, begrudgingly held the Scroll between them, scrolling through it slowly enough that both of them could read what notes she had.

“Hey Weiss,” Ruby started, “I have some flash cards back at the dorm. Do you want me to get those? They’d probably easier to study.”

Weiss’ eyebrows almost shot to her hairline. “ _You_ made _flashcards?_ ”

“Uh, yeah?” she separated from Weiss, lifting her arm off of her partner’s shoulders, “What do you think I did all summer?”

Weiss shook her head and looked incredulously at her partner, “Sparring with Yang, building another scythe, playing video games, and generally _not_ studying?”

Ruby chuckled and got up. Weiss frowned at the missing warmth of her partner. “I spar with Qrow, now.” Was all she said before bolting off, leaving a flurry of roses behind her, the telltale sign of her semblance hinting that Ruby just _sprinted_ through the library and is rocketing off towards their dorm.

Before Weiss could shake the incredulity at her partner’s behavior, she had returned, her cape flowing behind her as she beamed down at Weiss, flashing the cards that she’d brought.

“I’m back!” She said with a smile.

Weiss couldn’t help but find her joy contagious, and found herself smiling too as Ruby took a seat next to her. Together, they flipped through the flashcards. Weiss was easily able to rattle off the appropriate responses to Ruby’s cards, which covered all the subjects of their classes, with a few miscellaneous trivia questions about the members of team RWBY, JNPR, and a few of the other students of Beacon Academy. Weiss could answer most of the questions about her own team, but had quite a bit of trouble with the other teams and students.

Ruby was not quite as quick as her partner, but had little trouble with the cards, save for the few that covered Dust theory. She quickly became bored, however, and entertained herself by making popping sounds with her mouth and drumming her fingers on the cool surface of the table.

“Next one,” Weiss began, “Dust-based space travel is not viable because…”

Ruby’s answer was delivered in a droning voice, “Dust can only be activated within Remnant’s Aurasphere.”

Weiss nodded, “Correct.”

Ruby groaned, “This is boring.”

Weiss shook her head, “Would you rather be bored or have bad grades?”

Ruby dropped her head onto the table, the cool white metal pressing against her cheek. “We should take sec. I’m gonna get burned out at this rate!”

Weiss sighed. No point in arguing with Ruby when it came to stuff like this. “Okay, fine,” she put the cards back on the table, “What do you want to talk about?”

Ruby immediately shot back up in her seat and bounced in excitement. “I made some modifications to Crescent Rose!”

Weiss tried to look surprised, “Oh?”

Ruby leaned forward and spoke to Weiss quickly and excitedly, “I _built_ a scope! It was frickin’ hard and took the whole summer but I built my own scope with thermal vision and everything! It even ranges itself! I had to call Penny and get help for some of it but it works super good! I also got a few extended magazines and I’m working on a muzzle brake that won’t totally ruin my baby’s aes!” She leaned in to her partner and whispered in her ear, “I’m also working on another form that’ll be super cool and helpful.”

Weiss blushed at the breath in her ear, but was gracefully spared as Ruby leaned back and continued, “But Qrow won’t give me Harbinger! Stubborn old man, it’s not like I can’t make him another scythe.”

Weiss shook her head again and tried to push down the blush. “Why do you need your uncle’s scythe?’

Ruby smiled at her and winked. “That’s a surprise.”

Before Weiss could return to reading out the flash cards, Ruby’s Scroll erupted with a shrill ringing, causing her to squeak and fumble for the device, which she quickly silenced. 

She looked back up at Weiss with a smirk and began pulling something from her pajama bottoms, “That’s the wakeup alarm,” she revealed the whistle, “You wanna watch?”

Weiss smirked and nodded, quickly stacking the cards and binding them with a rubber band before following her partner out of the library and towards their dorm. The walk back was done in a comfortable silence, both because of the lack of conversation topics and out of courteousness for those still sleeping. Weiss felt anticipation building as they approached the wooden door marked ‘Team RWBY’, she’d been waiting to reunite with her teammates for a whole summer.

As Ruby silently opened the door, she gestured for Weiss to plug her ears as she brought her lips around the mouth of the whistle. There was a moment of hesitation as she looked back at Weiss, just to make sure she had her ears covered, then she blew as hard as she could. The whistle’s shrill cry pierced the air. 

Immediately, Yang and Blake scrambled from their bunks, the former with a shouted curse and the latter with a shriek. Blake hit the floor with a groan, which was only amplified when her partner, her _heavy partner_ , landed on top of her. 

_“Ruby, ”_ Yang growled, “I am going to use your tanned hide to make myself a new _fucking pair of boots!"_

Ruby giggled and casually tossed the whistle to Weiss, who deftly caught it. “You’re gonna have to get up if you wanna catch me.”

Yang groaned and got off of her partner, muttering a quiet ‘sorry’ as she glared at her sister. “Ruby Rose, you would be dead if you were not my sister.”

Ruby’s smile doesn’t falter, “I know!” 

Yang looked like she was about to say something else, probably a snarky or crass comment, but the beeping of the intercom interrupted her. From a speaker above them, Glynda’s voice relayed the message:

_“Attention all second-year students, orientation will be taking place in the amphitheater in one hour. Students who do not attend will be reprimanded. Thank you.”_

For a moment, everyone in team RWBY’s dorm stared up at the speaker, then stared at each other. No one was wearing anything remotely presentable.

Before chaos could ensue, Ruby used her semblance to zip into the bathroom, shut the door behind her, and turn on the shower before anyone could contest. 

No one else got the time to shower.

Eventually, they all left the RWBY dorm in their Beacon uniforms, Ruby being the only one of the group who looked refreshed. As they neared the amphitheater, they found it mostly empty, save for a few teams, namely JNPR and CRDL, the latter of which seemed to be missing a member.

“Guess they’ll all come flooding in soon,” muttered Yang.

An awkward silence threatened to hang, but Ruby kept it at bay, “Blake, what’d you do over the break?”

Blake shook her head free of her own thoughts before answering, “I spent some time with my parents in Menagerie, but I mostly did volunteer work. Menagerie is still mostly uncolonized, and the caravans need protection. What’d you do?”

Ruby smiled, “Me and Yang stayed with dad in Patch, but I was away for most of that time since Qrow insisted I ‘be prepared’,” she said with her best impression of her uncle, which really just sounded like she needed some water, “and sparred with me all the time. Other than that, I did the usual. Played video games, messed with Crescent Rose, built a scope, y’know, nothin’ crazy.”

Yang hummed, “Weird, Qrow barely talked to me and dad beyond just ‘hey, I’m takin’ Rubes, be back whenever’.”

Ruby turned to her sister, “What did you guys do?”

Yang shrugged, “Played video games, shot the shit, sparred a little. I took him for a ride on Bumblebee, and he nearly vomited when we got back, called my baby a ‘death machine’.” Yang turned to Weiss, “What’d you do, princess?”

Weiss huffed and crossed her arms. “Do not call me that.”

Yang rolled her eyes, “Whatever. What’d you do?”

Weiss uncrossed her arms. Ruby could see her cerulean eyes turn more solemn, and she wrapped her pinky around Weiss’. Weiss jumped at the contact, but didn’t release the subtle hold. “I… I stayed in Atlas.”

Yang cocked her head and leaned towards Weiss. “What’d you _do_?”

Weiss’ free hand clutched her arm and Ruby could feel her hand warm up and sweat as she became visibly uncomfortable. Ruby knew that Weiss hated talking about being in Atlas, especially since she received texts near-daily from her partner about how much she despised the constant blizzards, the scummy aristocrats, the corrupt bureaucrats, and _especially_ the corporate autocrat that is Jacques Schnee. She unwrapped her pinky from Weiss’ in exchange for holding her hand, clamminess be damned. Weiss sighed and felt a little of her tension ease, “Stupid business _shit_ ,” she spat, like the words were acid in her mouth.

Yang was taken aback at Weiss’ cursing. “Damn, princess, sorry I asked.”

Weiss gave Ruby’s hand a final squeeze before letting go, “It’s fine. I’m used to it.”

A loud creak filled the room as the amphitheater doors swung open, letting in a flood of students. They carried with them a dull roar of at least a dozen conversations, which carried and bounced around the room. The students filled the room in an organized chaos, most of them reserved within their small groups of four. As the last team filed in, the dim lights of the amphitheater brightened and shifted, directing their focus to the stage at the back-center of the room.

The great doors at the back of the stage split and pulled apart, revealing Beacon Academy’s Headmaster, Ozpin, and his assistant, Professor Glynda Goodwitch. They walked to the middle of the stage slowly, the student’s cacophony of conversation dying with each of their steps. Silence fell upon the room like a heavy fog.

With a gentle tap of his cane Ozpin killed the final withering wisps of conversation. He pushed up his glasses, took a sip from his ever-steaming mug, and spoke, “Students of Beacon Academy. My students. I hope you have all had a wonderful summer break, as you have all been more than deserving of it. You have placed among one of the best-performing classes in your first year, with combat proficiencies challenging those of legendary teams such as AURM and STRQ. I am proud of all of you.”

His eyes held genuine pride as his gaze swept across the room, his small smile slowly fading as he moved on to his next point, “However, this class has also had the lowest retention rate in the past decade. Extenuating circumstances have lead to some students growing uncomfortable with the reality of being a Hunter or Huntress. Due to their unpreparedness,” his gaze flickered to the three members left of team CRDL: Cardin, Dove, and Sky, “some teams have been left with missing members, for which we are seeking replacements.”

He took another sip from his mug and began pacing across the stage, his footfalls eerily silent against the wooden platform, “My students, last year’s Mountain Glenn incident is not the first time such events have occurred. There will always be Grimm, which means there will always be problems such as Mountain Glenn. The breach of Vale was not expected, but it has happened before, and it will most likely happen again. With the rise of groups such as the White Fang, and their newfound association with crime lord Roman Torchwick, there will likely be more notable incidents which will occur during your attendance at Beacon Academy. In times like these, you must remember that it is the Hunter’s duty _and_ burden to protect the people of Remnant from _any and all_ threats.”

He sighed and turned on his heel, facing the crowd again, his voice solemn and hard, “There are threats to Vale and Remnant the likes of which I have not seen for many years. Hunter teams are reporting that the White Fang is becoming as much of a threat as the Grimm are, and that they are becoming increasingly large and active. I know that some of you,” his eyes swept across the room again, briefly locking onto Blake, “Have sympathy for the cause of the White Fang. I can understand your trepidation at my proposal, but I will clarify to ease your mind. I care for the rights of Faunus, especially my Faunus students. I have seen the atrocities committed against them, and I do not support those who would be so hateful against those who bleed just as I do, and just as you do. However, it is undeniable that the White Fang has been involved in or instigated events that compromise the city of Vale and its inhabitants; Namely, the Mountain Glenn incident. They are not only a threat to Vale, they are a threat to Remnant.”

The crowd of students came to life with murmurs and mumbles. Ozpin responded by tapping his cane against the stage, bringing silence to the room again, “I am not asking you to root out and destroy the White Fang. I am not asking you to hunt down the members of the White Fang. You are students, and I cannot expect such things from you. What I am asking is that you defend Beacon. I ask that you defend Vale. I ask that you, my students, my _Hunters_ , defend Remnant. You will _not_ be receiving missions to hunt White Fang, your missions will be focused on defending Remnant from Grimm. However, if we are under attack by the White Fang, you will be expected to defend. If your mission is interrupted or directly hindered by the White Fang, you will be expected to retaliate with _appropriate force_." Ozpin paused for a moment. "My students, the White Fang has _no mercy_ for you.”

Ozpin’s last sentence froze the air. The fog of silence became a choking miasma. Ruby’s eyes widened at the words. Weiss frowned. Yang crossed her arms and sneered. Blake wore a blank expression, but her nails were threatening to break the skin of her palms.

When one speaks, it often breaks a tense silence, but Ozpin’s voice only made it grow more oppressive, “Know that you will all be safe under my watch, and I will do _everything_ in my power to keep you _and_ Vale safe. Thank you all for being outstanding students, I am honored to be your headmaster. I will leave the rest to Miss Goodwitch. Glynda,” he nodded to his assistant, who stepped forward as Ozpin disappeared beyond the great doors of the stage.

Goodwitch’s voice eased the stiff atmosphere of the room. “Thank you all for staying with Beacon Academy. I can personally say that I am proud of all of you, and I am eager to see your progress. Classes begin at 8 AM tomorrow. You are dismissed.”

Glynda’s heels clicked against the wooden platform as she followed the headmaster, leaving the crowd behind her in a stunned silence. Slowly, whispers became murmurs, and murmurs became the dull roar of conversation that it had been earlier as students leave the amphitheater and return to their dorms in various states of confusion, pride, and fear.

RWBY, however, was the last team left standing dumbfounded in the room. None of them had budged an inch. Each one was still rooted firmly by Ozpin’s words, their minds a maelstrom of conflicting thoughts. Their eyes had not moved from where Ozpin had stood.

Yang growled and her shoulders rose. She stomped out of the room in a huff, barging open the amphitheater doors with a shoulder. Weiss was the only one broken from her trance by the commotion, her cerulean gaze turning hard as she confidently strode from the room, her head held high. Blake and Ruby remained for a long time in solemn contemplation before the former turned and left, her gaze down-turned and her footsteps silent.

Outside of her own thoughts, Ruby realized that she was the only one left in the large amphitheater. Her legs operated on autopilot. Before she knew it, she had returned to the RWBY dorm and was opening the door. The room was missing one-fourth of its usual occupants, namely Yang. Blake laid flat on her bed, her nose buried so deep in a book that Ruby couldn’t see her face. Weiss sat at her desk, hunched over a thick textbook and her accompanying pile of notes. The air was thick with tense silence.

Ruby, finally unshackled from her train of thought, sighed as she saw her team. She turned around, and allowed her legs to passively carry her as she became lost in her mind once more. Ozpin’s words still rang in her thoughts, providing ample fuel for questions, but no such answers. A tightness settled in her chest like chains around her ribs, and she frowned as she forced herself to take long, deep breaths from her gut. 

Without realizing, she’d made her way to the cliff overlooking the Emerald Forest. She’d spent a lot of time there, most of it alone, during her first year. It was a nice place to contemplate her future, her past, and her present. The trees of the forest did justice to their names, providing a dazzling, deep green that stretched to the horizon, where the sun was slowly setting. Ruby inhaled deeply, relishing in the scent of the crisp, fresh air. If she looked closely enough, she’d be able to see the many signs of life within the forest below her; birds, squirrels…

Grimm.

Her mother was buried within a cliff similar to this one. Perhaps that’s why she was so drawn to it. Just similar enough to inspire tranquility, but not quite similar enough to flood her mind with loss. Carefully, she pulled off her shoes and stockings, relishing in the feeling of the verdant grass between her toes.

_“Appropriate force… no mercy.”_

The headmaster’s voice broke her relaxation and brought her back to the reason she was here. She reached into her uniform’s jacket, and pulled her Scroll from one of the few inside pockets. With practiced ease, she dialed the number.

“What’s up, little Rose?”

The familiar, gruff voice of her uncle made Ruby’s lips twitch into a tiny smile, but the small happiness couldn’t hide the sullen tone of her voice. “Hey, uncle Qrow.”

“You okay?"

Ruby sighed. Of course he’d be able to tell. Heck, any random person on the street could probably _hear_ her raging thoughts. “No… I think I…” she sniffled, and the crushing reality of her unfinished sentence brought her to tears. The tightness in her chest returned, increasing tenfold.

“Slowly, kiddo. I’ve got time. No need to rush.”

Her uncle’s reassuring voice gave her a shred of confidence. “I- I think I’m going to kill someone.”

Ruby could hear Qrow jerking his head away from the Scroll. “What! What’d they say! I’ll bite their head off if they hurt you, Ruby!”

Ruby chuckled, but it was more automatic than mirthful. “No, uncle Qrow. I mean I might have to _kill someone_.”

Even through the call, Ruby could feel his gaze harden. His voice came out like stone, “What do you mean, Rubes?”

Ruby blinked away a few tears and wiped her face on her sleeve, ignoring the streak of snot she left on it. “Have you killed anyone before?

“Oh,” Qrow started, his voice sounding deathly grim, “I see.”

Ruby remained silent as she sat on the cliff’s edge and allowed her feet to dangle haphazardly.

“Uh, yeah. I… It was after STRQ disbanded. I was, uh, _going solo_ . Your dad was busy with your sister and Raven was busy... Not being a mother. You know the rest of _that_ story. I was escorting a caravan for a Frontier town. Don’t remember the name, they’re all something like _Retribution_ , _Valiance_ , or _Hope_. It was a nice group of people, they needed a Hunter to keep the Grimm off their asses, and I was… well, I was _there_. That’s all that matters.”

Another sigh came through the line, but Ruby remained silent.

“First, a bunch of Grimm jumped us, as they tend to do. They weren’t too hard for me, and killing ‘em got the morale up. We were all walking along, being happy and shit, when I heard something in the forest. The caravan stopped, and a bunch of assholes came out of the treeline. Just your run-of-the-mill bandits. About eleven of ‘em, don’t quite remember. They were pretty well equipped, would’a looted that caravan easy, if it weren’t for me.”

Ruby leaned forward, growing ever engrossed in her uncle’s story.

“I went to work. I’d fought people before. It’s way more boring than fighting Grimm, but it’s way more dangerous, if you know what I mean. Anyways I…”

Ruby pressed her ear closer to the Scroll’s speaker, afraid that she was missing her uncle’s story, but she wasn’t. He’d drifted off, and sighed again.

“Ruby, the scythe is a dangerous weapon. Wielding it is just as much fighting against it as it is using it to fight against others. It’s why Harbinger’s also a sword. I can stop a sword. The scythe, though, you can’t stop it. It’s all momentum and no brakes, y’know?”

Ruby nodded and gave a little noise of affirmation.

“It’s why we’re the only scythe wielders around, Ruby. It’s too dangerous for most people.”

“So what happened? Did you kill one of the bandits?” Ruby blurted out, unable to keep the question from escaping her lips.

Qrow gave a dead chuckle. “Not one. I was getting cocky. Harbinger was in full swing, scythe out, I was in my element. I could gauge those bandit’s Auras perfectly, dropped ‘em easy, not a drop of blood. There was one person though, some kid, some hotshot. Must’ve thought I could use some help. Jumps out, no regard for his own safety. Selfless kid, really. Stupid, selfless kid. He got in my way, whether he realized it or not, and I couldn’t stop the scythe.”

“So…?” 

“Went right through him. Would’ve been better if he’d screamed, would’a made it better, somehow. No, he just dropped dead, body in two pieces. That was the first time Harbinger ever tasted blood.”

Ruby’s words died in her throat, and a deep, bone-chilling dread took their place.

“There have been others, but I don’t think of them as much. They weren’t like the kid. The others were in defense, but that kid was an accident. I should’ve been more careful, I should’ve kept Harbinger in her sword form. There were so many things I could’ve done, but none of that matters. I still think about him some nights. Sometimes, he comes in my dreams, telling me it wasn’t my fault. Says it like he’s not cut in two.”

Ruby’s head drooped, and more tears stung her eyes. “I’m sorry, uncle Qrow.”

“It’s… it’s not your fault, kiddo.” A few moments of silence passed, but Qrow’s voice returned again, “Why do you think you’ll need to kill someone?”

Ruby's feet nervously rubbed together as she fought to push the words past her lips, “Ozpin made a speech. He said we’re going to have to fight the White Fang, and that we’re probably going to run into them on our missions. I… I think I know what he was saying. Or what he wasn’t saying…”

“Oh, Ruby…”

A few of the tears managed to escaped, and they lazily fell down her cheeks, “I don’t want to do it, uncle Qrow! No one deserves to die.”

“You’re just like your mother, little Rose. So compassionate, so caring. Nothing will ever change that, Ruby. _Nothing_.”

Ruby stifled a sob, “But what if I—”

“ _Nothing,_ Ruby. You shouldn’t have to do this, but you’re going to have to make a choice. Ruby, there will come a time where you are in danger, your team is in danger, _someone_ is in danger, and you’re going to have to choose. Either a friend dies, or a bad guy dies. In those split-second moments, there can’t be hesitation, it’s gotta be all-out, or you, or Yang, or Tai, or some random kid is gonna die. I hate it, Ruby, I hate that you have to do this, but if Ozpin’s right, then you’ve gotta be ready. Don’t let someone innocent die because you couldn’t pull the trigger. It’s that simple, Ruby, and I’m sorry.”

Ruby felt the chains constricting her chest loosen, but instead they burned. “Why can’t I just come home?” She sobbed.

“You can.” 

Ruby didn’t respond.

“I didn’t think so. I’m sorry, little Rose, but there’s nothing either of us can do. If it’s going to happen, then the millions of different ways you _could’ve_ stopped it don’t matter. What’s important is accepting what you’re going to have to do, and moving past it once it’s done.”

Ruby didn’t feel much better, but her storm of thoughts became clearer. She’d found answers, but they weren’t easy ones. “Yeah....”

Qrow sighed, “Ruby, you’re going to be okay in the end. No matter what, you’re going to be okay, I promise.”

The notion lifted her spirits a little, enough to let her breathe easily again. “Thanks, uncle Qrow.”

"Yeah," Ruby could hear the sad smile through his voice, “No problem, kiddo.”

A moment of silence passed, and Ruby’s thumb hovered over the ‘end call’ button.

“Hey, kid?”

“Yeah?”

“Why didn’t you call Tai?”

Ruby sheepishly rubbed the back of her neck. “Well, uh, I didn’t think he’d be… _real_ with me.”

Qrow chuckled, “Yeah, that sounds like your old man.”

Another moment of silence.

“You need anything else?”

A hint of what could almost be related to a smile graced Ruby’s lips, “No. Bye-bye, uncle Qrow.”

“See ya, kid. Remember what I said, I love you.”

That really made Ruby smile. He didn’t say that often. “I love you too, uncle Qrow. Bye.”

This time, Ruby’s thumb definitely pressed the ‘end call’ button, leaving her alone with her thoughts, which were mostly resolved, if not happily. She only stayed for a few minutes more before pulling on her stockings, boots, and returning to the dorm. She had a team to help.


	2. A Path Best Walked with Friends

A pair of solid knocks hailed the two remaining occupants of the RWBY dorm. Their leader had returned, not that any of them really noticed. The door creaked open, and Ruby saw her teammates in the same place she’d left them; Weiss was still poring over her notes, and Blake was still buried in a book. Ruby stepped past the threshold, and noticed that neither of her teammates seemed to be particularly focused. Blake would half-turn a page, lower the book briefly to reveal her furrowed eyebrows, then settle the page once again, likely to re-read the same words again and again. Weiss was staring blankly at the pages before her, only moving her head between the textbook and the notes on occasion. As Ruby got closer, the ponderous frown on her face became more obvious.

“Blake.”

Blake half-turned the page again.

“Blake!”

Blake nearly jumped out of her skin at the voice of her leader. The hardback book tumbled from her hands, and closed with an audible thunk as it hit the floor. Bewildered, she looked up at Ruby, who was standing at the side of her bed. Weiss, too, had looked over.

“You should go talk to Yang.” Ruby said with an offered hand. Blake bewilderedly took it and got out of her spot on the bunk bed, then headed out the door without a word.

Ruby took a moment to breathe before turning around and facing her partner. Weiss was looking back with dubious concern. Ruby noticed that she’d ditched the school uniform in favor of a black band shirt she’d gifted Weiss last year. On its front were twisting, gnarled words that formed the name of the metal band whose concert she’d attended, and Ruby knew that the back of the shirt had the signatures of each band member in bright red marker. The shirt was just a tad too large since Ruby hadn’t known her size at the time; it hung past her hips, covering the waistband of her sky-blue pajama bottoms. Ruby also realized that, with her partner’s hair down, it was noticeably shorter. Rather than hanging below her waist, it now only fell between her shoulder blades, and the ends seem messily frayed and chopped, as if they’d been cut with a knife.

“Weiss,” She started, slowly and gingerly walking to her partner, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Weiss frowned and her eyebrows furrowed. She turned back to her notes and didn’t respond. Ruby sighed.

“That’s okay. We… You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” Ruby turned around, disheartened that her partner wouldn’t share with her. As she walked to the bunk, however, she felt a tug on her sleeve. She turned around, and Weiss slowly approached until she was firmly within Ruby’s personal space. She didn’t mind, of course. In fact, it brought a wan smile to her face. Weiss was looking up at her, her eyes set like steel.

“I am a Schnee. I was born a Schnee. Do you know what that means, Ruby?”

Weiss’ voice was sharp and cold, and it froze Ruby to the core, regardless of the warmth of their proximity. She shook her head, knowing that Weiss didn’t really want a verbal answer.

“It means they _hate_ me, Ruby. _Despise, resent,_ ” she hissed, “they want me to _die._ They want my family to die, they want _you_ to die because you’re my friend. I have _seen_ it, Ruby.”

Ruby could see the tears growing in her eyes, and she gently took her partner’s hand in her own.

“When I was six, they killed my uncle. They mailed us his _head._ I really liked uncle Nick. He was a good man, the only Schnee willing to stand up to my father. Sometimes I could hear them in father’s office, screaming about the conditions in the mines. I always listened in, I kept my ear to that door. I could tell he was getting close, Ruby. He _almost_ got my father on his side. Then, they killed him. My father showed me his head to make sure I know what they think of us. I’ll never forget it, Ruby. _Never.”_

Ruby brought her other hand to the back of her partner’s shoulder, drawing her slightly closer. A few tears escaped and ran lazily down Weiss’ cheeks, but they did nothing to hide the intensity of her gaze.

The fire in her eyes belied the sadness in her voice as she clutched Ruby’s jacket, “I _hate_ them, Ruby. I hate them for what they did to my family. I used to dream of finding the _bastards_ who killed my uncle, and paying them back tenfold. I imagined myself in a place of power where _I_ could be the one sending _their_ heads to their wives, to their daughters. I dreamed of becoming _exactly what they are.”_ She hissed.

Ruby’s silver eyes flashed with determination, “Weiss you’ll never—”

Weiss’ grasp on Ruby’s jacket tightened, keeping her from finishing, “I am not finished, Ruby. I still think about almost dying on that train. That Faunus _towering_ above me, ready to kill another Schnee in the name of the White Fang. I could see past his mask, I could see the hate in his eyes, but I could also hear the joy in his voice, the _satisfaction._ It was the same voice I had in my dreams. The elation of a monster,” the tears now readily burst forth, and Weiss gave in to sobbing, “I don’t want to be a monster, Ruby! I don’t want to be like them!”

Ruby released Weiss’ hand and brought both arms fully around her partner, who still clutched to the lapels of her jacket.

Weiss, with tears and fear in her eyes, looked frantically up at her partner, then pushed her face into Ruby’s chest, her words muffled by the material of the blouse. “How, Ruby? How am I any different!”

Weiss continued to sob into Ruby’s shirt, and Ruby continued to hold her partner. She waited at least ten minutes for the sobs to die down a little before responding softly, “There are lots of ways you’re different, Weiss,”

A sniffle.

“I know you _think_ these things, but I also know you’d never _do_ these things. Do you think you could _really_ do that, Weiss? Cut off someone’s head and send it to their family?” Ruby provided as she brought a hand up to gently stroke her partner’s hair, just like Yang used to do for her.

A sniffle, Weiss’ head shook ever-so-slightly.

“I didn’t think so. There’s a difference between thought and action, and action is all that really matters. _Thinking_ those things doesn’t make you a monster, Weiss, it makes you _human_. We all have those thoughts, what’s important is that we have the will to not follow through with them.”

Another sniffle, Weiss’ grip on her jacket loosened a little.

“You could _never_ be a monster, Weiss. Do you know why?”

The faintest response, “Why?”

“Because you’re _you_ . You’re not _them_ , you’re not some White Fang cronie. You’re Weiss. You can be stubborn and arrogant, but you can also be kind and compassionate. Do you remember when you stayed up all night with me in the library, just so I could learn Creep anatomy?”

Weiss slowly nodded.

“A monster wouldn’t do that. A monster wouldn’t change, Weiss, and believe me, you’ve changed. You used to be a real bi— _meanie_. And you’re still a little bit of a meanie, but you’re so many other things, Weiss.”

Ruby’s arm tightened around her, and Weiss looked back up at her partner, her glacial eyes now red and puffy.

“And, most importantly, you’re _my partner._ ”

Weiss let go of her partner’s lapels, and encircled Ruby’s waist in her arms. She let her head rest against her partner, rather than burying her face in her shirt. For a few long moments, they held each other, reveling in the comfort of one another.

It felt so wonderful to be holding her partner again. Long embraces weren't exactly common during their first year, but they were still occasional, mostly when Weiss had an _experience_ with her father, or when Ruby felt overwhelmed. Weiss sighed into her partner's chest, and inhaled deeply. The scent of Ruby felt like _home_ _._ Not Palace Schnee, but a home she could be comfortable in. Roses, strawberries, chocolate, all scents that made for a pleasant addition to the feeling Weiss had when she was with Ruby. To have a friend so close, so dear to her, had once been a foreign, dangerous idea, but it was something she couldn't imagine living without, now.

Ruby was _so warm,_ Weiss didn't want to let her go. She could stay like this forever. In the back of Weiss' mind, something nagged. Something worrying. It nipped at her feeling of bliss, a worrying voice hammering at her thoughts like a woodpecker. _Just friends,_ the voice mocked.

Weiss' eyes scrunched up as she tried to hammer down the voice, but she couldn't ignore it. She couldn't ignore how much Ruby made her _feel_ _._ She looked up into her partner's silver eyes, and she felt the words bubbling up in her throat. Words that would change things, _threaten_ things. She felt the weight of what she wanted to say anchor the words in her throat. She couldn't say it. All she could do was look into the eyes of her partner.

Ruby wasn't doing much better. She liked Weiss, in a more-than-friendly way. She'd known it for a long time, but she'd been able to cope with the fact that Weiss didn't like her. How could she? Weiss, heiress to a billion Lien company, Dust manipulation expert, prim and proper, with the singing voice of an angel. Ruby, less than 600 Lien to her name, wielder of an over-sized farming tool, grease monkey, with normal, boring knees. The best Ruby could do was cling to moments like these, accept that Weiss was just becoming affectionate because Ruby had forced her to become used to it, and keep soldiering on. Maybe she could get a date with Penny. 

Then again, she saw something within Weiss' gaze. She could see a conflict, and that was just enough to light a spark of hope within Ruby. Maybe miracles exist.

At the same time, their eyes flickered to each other’s lips, and the tension shifted immediately. They separated, scrambling away from each other and sputtering.

Weiss turned and tried to hide her ferocious blush, “Uh, t-thanks, Ruby,”

Ruby turned, too, and began to quickly climb to her bunk, “Yeah, it’s no—”

“No, thank you, really it’s—”

“Yeah, I know, we’re, uh, we’re—”

“Good partners—”

“Yeah! Yeah, best partners ever—”

“I’ll just go back to—”

“Yeah, I’mma just uh—”

“Studying.”

“Go to bed.”

Ruby snapped her mouth shut before anything more embarrassing could come out, and she tried to hide her blush under a blanket. Weiss sat back at her desk, and buried her face in her hands.

The awkward silence in the room was palpable, until Weiss slightly alleviated it, “Thank you, Ruby. Really. I’d rather have no other partner.”

Ruby briefly poked her head out from the covers, “Yeah, Weiss, you’re great too. Best ever. Really like you.”

The awkward silence became twice as oppressive.

“As a partner! Best partner! No one better!” she thrust her head back under the covers, “Good night!”

Across the school, Blake was following her orders. Even from her side of the door, she could hear Yang exercising within. 

_Thump, thump, thump-thump,_ A yell, _thump!_ A chain rattled, and a sixth thump hinted that Yang had probably broken the chain holding the heavy bag. Probably the best time to make herself known.

Blake pushed open the glass door and crossed the gym. Yang noticed her when she entered the sandpit that dominated the majority of the gym’s floorspace, and Blake managed to catch a glimpse of crimson retreating from her lilac eyes. “Hey, Blake.”

Blake glanced between the fallen bag and her partner. “You’re really going at it, huh?”

Yang popped her knuckles and rolled her shoulders back. “Ah, yeah. Just got a lot of feelings to get out. You know how it is, especially with my semblance. Kinda sucks, having to constantly push down the anger, the urge to _fucking hit something!_ ” Her sentence was punctuated with a powerful punch, which cracked the wall she’d impacted. Blake cringed.

“So do you, uh, wanna talk about it? Partner-to-partner?”

Yang turned to the wall she’d cracked. “Nah.”

Blake blinked and shook her head. She held a finger aloft and spoke with her most pretentious tone, “Then I must formally request that you relinquish your troubles unto me.”

Yang turned and pressed her forehead against the wall. “ _Please_ don’t go all fancy-talkin’ princess on me, Blake.”

“So… you gonna tell me?”

Yang released a thunderous sigh. “Of course I will, I just don’t _want_ to.”

Blake gave her partner a soft smile, even though she could only see her back. 

“When you were in your… _organization_ , “ She said with remarkable tact, “Did you ever… y’know.” She made a chopping motion with her hand, along with a _ghakk_ noise from her throat.

Blake was immediately flushed with shame. “I… I don’t know.”

Yang whirled around on her partner, “What is _that_ supposed to mean?”

Blake sheepishly rubbed her arm. “Can we take this somewhere more private?”

Yang chuckled, the vulnerability in her eyes easily masked by mirth. “Hoho? You want some alone time with _me?_ Scandalous!”

Blake folded her arms and frowned. “ _Yang._ ”

Yang waved dismissively in response and began to leave the gym. “Yeah, yeah, keep your shirt on,” she threw a smirk over her shoulder, “Or not, up to you.”

Blake let out a single laugh and followed her partner. They walked through Beacon in silence, a silence which grew tenser as they reached the courtyard. The area was actually quite populous, but large and open enough that the sounds of conversation either died or drowned out before reaching anyone. Yang took a seat on the grass next to one of the courtyard’s many trees. It’s once-green leaves were darkening and turning red with the onset of Autumn. Blake looked around to make sure no one was within earshot of their conversation, then dropped to the ground, cross-legged across from Yang.

Yang stared at her expectantly, and Blake sighed and pushed her hair back. “When I was in the,” she looked around again, “The _White Fang,”_ she whispered, “ _I_ didn’t kill anyone. I’ve cut people, I’ve made them bleed, but I’ve never _killed_ anyone.”

Yang opened her mouth to say something, but Blake just continued, determined to get out the line of conversation.

“Never sunk my blade deep into their guts and watched the light in their eyes die. _He_ did, though.”

Yang knew where this was headed, and she clenched her fists. That _asshole_ hounded her partner. He kept finding her Scroll’s address, no matter how many she had to put it through a wall. She’d just decided to stop trying altogether, and never stopped receiving his texts. He’d berate her, call her a traitor, call her weak, and at the same time he’d praise her. Tell Blake how good she _was,_ how good she _could be,_ how much he _needed_ her. Every time Blake couldn’t sleep, every time Blake cried, every time she screamed in anger, it was _his fault_ , and there was _nothing_ Yang could do about it.

The thought made her blood boil.

A hand rested on her thigh. Blake had leaned forward when she saw Yang’s eyes turn red, and she knew what was making her angry. The contact, though, was enough to break her out of her stupor.

“Adam was a monster, Yang,” Blake continued, “He loved it. He kept telling me I should try it, like it was some kind of drug I was missing out on, like it was a joke I didn’t understand. He berated me for leaving people alive, he even killed some of the ones I’d left incapacitated.” Her eyes grew distant, and Yang felt the anger creeping in again as her partner became lost in memory.

“Blake—”

“I remember. He cut someone’s legs off, some poor SDC salaryman, just someone hired to move crates. He just watched and… and laughed. They tried to crawl away and their legs were just leaking blood and all I did was st-stand there and watch and he-he laughed and laughed as they screamed…”

Yang’s desire to comfort her teammate tempered her anger, and she reached forward, pulling Blake into her lap.

Blake sniffled and continued as if she was answering a question she’d posed in her own mind, “What was _I_ supposed to do! He’s insane! He would’ve done worse to me if he thought I was… _sympathetic_ to anyone but _him.”_

It was all Yang could do to focus on her partner, and _not_ focus on the one who _kept fucking her partner up!_

Yang grit her teeth and tried to steer the conversation away from Adam, “And what will you do if you see one of your former comrades on a mission?”

Blake’s head snapped upwards, her eyes meeting Yang’s in fury. She pushed herself off her partner and gave her a disgusted sneer, “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Yang’s hand found solid purchase with her forehead. God, what a fucking _idiotic_ question, _of course_ that’d make her pissed, “Blake, that’s not what I meant. I mean, like, you guys _used_ to fight for the same thing, what if you see one of the members— not _him_ — who you used to…” her hands waved in the air as she searched for the words to end her question, “Run missions with?”

Blake sighed and closed her eyes to let go of a little of her anger. She knew Yang didn’t mean anything by it, she was just trying to move the conversation away from _him_ while still keeping her original line of questioning intact. She was _not_ questioning her loyalties. Yang _trusted_ her. “I’m sorry, Yang, I didn’t mean to lash out like that. Look, I _never_ fought for what _they_ fight for. I fought— _fight_ for equality, they fight for subjugation. Please don’t compare me to them again.”

Yang nervously scratched the back of her head, her other hand raised in an apologetic gesture, “Yeah, I’m sorry. It was a bad move.”

“So,” Blake started while scooting closer to her partner, “What about you? What are your feelings on the whole… _thing?_ You seemed pretty… _aggressive_ about it back there.”

Yang chuckled, “Punching things helps relieve my thoughts. When I’m fighting, I get so into the zone that I kinda just retreat into my own mind. It’s my best time to think, it’s when I’m my truest self.”

Blake laughed, “‘My truest self?’ Jeez you sound like one of my crappy romance novels.”

“And just like the novels, you can’t get enough of me.” Yang responded with a wink.

Blake groaned with false-exasperation. “Incorrigible.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a long while.

“So, is that it? Do you just not worry about it?” Blake asked, breaking the silence.

Yang sighed,. “No, I don’t worry about it, I think I’m okay with it, now, or at least I’ve decided how I’m going to feel about it. I’m not happy, but if I’ll kill someone if I have to. If they hurt you, or Dust forbid if they hurt Ruby,” Red rose in the edges of her irises, “ _There’ll be no fucking mercy.”_

The growl made Blake’s eyes widen, and she felt a cold chill crawl up her spine, “Wow, Yang, glad to see that you’ve made up your mind, I guess.”

Yang pressed her back into the tree, her voice still lingering with aggression, “Yeah.”

Blake stood up and offered a hand to her partner. “You know, I thought you’d be a little more,” Yang took hold of her partner’s offered assistance and rose, their eyes meeting, “ _Yangsty_.”

For a moment, everything stopped. The birds stopped chirping, the leaves stopped rustling, the wind stopped blowing. Yang stared, frozen, into the amber eyes of her partner, and her own lilac eyes were widened in surprise. 

Yang laughed uproariously, her hand seeking purchase on Blake’s shoulder as she doubled over in laughter. Blake knew it wasn’t funny at all, in fact she was almost ashamed to say such a stupid pun, but the feeling she got from seeing Yang so happy made her chuckle. Perhaps it was a _little_ clever.

When the laughter stopped, Yang was left gasping and taking in heaving breaths. “Damn, Blake! That was good!”

Blake just smirked and shook her head.

Finally having recovered from the laughing fit, Yang released her hold on her partner’s shoulder. “Alright,” she said, her voice still light from laughter, “I’m gonna head back to the dorm, you coming with?”

Blake smiled. “I’ll walk you back, but I’ve gotta visit the library.”

Yang smirked and held her arm out, “Oh? _You’ll_ walk _me_ back?”

Blake rolled her eyes and stepped forward, taking Yang’s arm and holding it as if she were a gentleman escorting a fine lady. They walked together, arm in arm, down the hallways of Beacon and towards their dorm. A few people threw glances their way, but most just ignored them since such displays of affection weren’t entirely uncommon within Hunter teams. Yang, though, she revelled in it. She knew she shouldn’t— they were just friends after all— but being so close to Blake again was like waking up to a sunrise and smelling a fresh breakfast being cooked. It was _refreshing_ . The rage, the ever-present fear, it all felt so tiny when Blake was _here,_ keeping _her_ safe. Maybe she’d do this more often.

“We’re here, _Miss Xiao Long,_ ” Blake said in her most gentlemanly voice, as if she was a chauffeur delivering a passenger, “The RWBY dorm. ‘Twas a great pleasure, _madame_ ,”

Yang giggled, “Oh, thank you so much, _Miss Belladonna_. Truly, the pleasure is all mine.” Without really thinking about it, she lifted Blake’s hand to her lips, and planted a small kiss to the soft skin.

Yang panicked. Oh Dust, that was too much. Too much, too much. She looked up at Blake, ready to be slapped for overstepping their boundar—

Blake was smiling, and her eyes were shining with joy. 

Yang felt all her panic slough away, and she quickly slipped back into her character, “I’ll be seeing you, _Miss Belladonna_. Please, feel free to send a pidgeon my way.”

Blake chuckled and waved her partner off, then disappeared down the darkening hallway. Yang sood at the door for a while, missing the warm contact of her partner. The rage, the ever-present desire to _hit something_ reared its ugly head again, but Yang was able to temper it down. She checked her Scroll, groaned at how late it was getting, and opened the door.

The room was dark, illuminated by a single, dim reading light that Weiss was using to guide her studying. She was clearly out of it, her eyes only half open, and her hand barely holding on to her pencil. 

A few quiet words got Yang’s attention, and she looked further into the dark room to find her sister. She was sleeping in her bunk, drool leaking from the side of her mouth which moved slowly to utter half-words from her dreams.

Yang slowly walked over to where Weiss was sitting, and gently plucked the pencil from her hand. Weiss barely seemed to register this, and blearily looked up at Yang.

“Come on, Weiss,” Yang whispered as she lifted the heiress, “Let’s get you in bed.”

Yang reached over and flicked Weiss’ reading light off before guiding her to her bunk. She set Weiss down gently and pulled the blanket up past her shoulders. She had fallen asleep the moment her head hit the pillow, and Yang smiled as she, too, went to her own bunk. She wiggled out of her clothes, leaving them in a pile where she stood, and climbed up to her bed. She could feel sleep quickly taking its hold as she once more settled down in the familiar bed, and her dreams showed her a bright future, one with good friends, and new challenges that they’d overcome together.

In her sleep, she missed Blake sneaking in with a pile of new books tucked under her arm. She, too, dreamed positively. This was going to be a good year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one's a bit shorter, outline was too beefy for it to be done realistically in one chapter, so I had to break it into two. This probably won't happen often. Notes also won't happen often, unless y'all really want them to. Dog bless.
> 
> EDIT 8/18/2019: Couldn't sleep with this chapter being as garbage as it was. Made the romance actually, you know, romantic and understandable. Tbh can't believe it just let it exist as I had it at first.


	3. Notable Changes

_ Running, dark tunnel. Rumbling, screaming, crumbling.  _ **_Turn around, turn around, Ruby! They need you!_ **

_ Turn around. Dark tunnel. Weiss? Blake? Yang? Chainsaw, cane, parasol.  _

**_We need you, Ruby!_ **

_ Team, leaderless. Chainsaw. _

**_Make a choice._ **

_ Blood. Cane. _

**_Choice._ **

_ Blood. Parasol. _

**_Simple_ ** _. _

_ Blood. Sword. _

**_Sword._ **

_ Sword? _

Ruby woke with a gasp. Her heart was hammering against her chest, and she struggled to get her breathing back under control before she woke the team. That dream— no, nightmare— was fleeting, she was only left with its vague impressions of fear, anger, and disappointment. Why was she disappointed?

Ruby shook her head free of her thoughts and checked her scroll. Her alarm would ring in about 40 minutes. She looked around the room, taking in her sleeping teammates’ expressions, all of which seemed to be content. She hopped off of her bunk, her bare feet impacting the wooden floorboards with practiced silence. She gingerly walked to hers and Weiss’ dresser and pulled open the top drawer, revealing a plethora of red and black, along with a few grays and off-whites. Silently, she grabbed the outfit she’d planned and headed to the bathroom, where she left the clothes on the lid of the toilet and shed her pajamas. She turned on the shower, not bothering to wait for the water to heat up. The freezing cold water kept her distracted from the lingering, ominous feelings that her dreams had left with her.

As much as she wanted to stay in the shower as it gradually became warmer, she knew that her alarm would be going off soon. She quickly finished showering and toweling herself off, and caught herself in the mirror. She’d grown a fair bit since her first year, and was now significantly taller than Weiss at 5’5”, and was only an inch shorter than her sister. Her hair, too, had grown longer, and now reached to the base of her neck. Graduating had left her a few reminders of her time spent on missions with a fair few scars. Being something of a glass cannon made her easily the most prone of the group to have a broken Aura, thus also making her the most scarred. 

Two long lines of slightly raised, pink scar tissue stretched from the right side of her pelvis to the front of her thigh, a mark she’d earned when a Beowolf got a lucky hit on her. Dozens of smaller scars littered her upper arms and shoulders, reminders of being thrown through various glass windows during Mountain Glenn expeditions, none of which came even close to as impressive as her crowning set, a trio of scars on her back. She turned to get a good look at them in the mirror, and felt a surge of pride when she saw them. Three gnarled lines of raised, pink skin crossed her back diagonally, a reminder that she could still hold her own when her aura was drained. 

They came from a Nevermore, one which she affectionately referred to as ‘Bartramb’ in her memories. She’d tumbled when her Semblance had fully drained her Aura, leaving her on her hands and knees, her clothing torn and ripped and blood leaking from various smaller wounds. Bartramb had taken it upon himself to exploit her moment of vulnerability and remove her from the equation. He’d swooped over and raked her back with one of his taloned feet, leaving her screaming as the pain burned through her. She’d just barely managed to bring Crescent Rose up in an overhead arc with one arm in time to bury the head of her scythe in his lower back. She remembered emptying the rest of Crescent Rose’s magazine and using the recoil the rip Bartramb’s lower back apart, forcing him to land where her team could finish him off. Each scar was a reminder of her victories; Qrow had taught her that when she’d taken notice of his scar-littered arms. She was a survivor, and she had proof.

She left the bathroom with a nervous excitement. She’d grown well out of her clothes from last year, and ditched the black and red dress in favor of a more reasonable ensemble. She wore a high-neck blouse with loose sleeves, the cuffs of which were wrapped tightly under a pair of reddish leather vambraces. The blouse was tucked into a black skirt with a red trim, and both were worn under a corset with a similar color scheme. An ammo belt hung around her hips, on which a pair of large red magazines hung on her left side, and an assortment of Dust-tipped rounds hung in small loops on her right side. The outfit was completed by a pair of black thigh-highs and boots. She’d been so angry when her old lace-up boots didn’t fit her anymore, but at least the new pair didn’t come unlaced anymore, given that they used belts rather than laces to keep them secured.

She’d managed to not wake anyone with her morning routine, but she certainly wasn’t going to keep it that way. Once again, she looked at the clock on her Scroll. Three minutes. That’s close enough. She pulled the dreaded whistle from a skirt pocket and held it to her lips. Before she could blow it, however, an epiphany struck her. She slowly walked to her partner’s bunk and shook Weiss from her sleep.

“Ugh, wha, Ruby what’s—?” Weiss spoke blearily, “Was I having another nightmare?”

Ruby gave her a soft smile and held up the whistle in response. Weiss’ eyes widened in realization, and she nearly scrambled from the bed and towards the bathroom. She muttered a small ‘thank you’ to her partner before crossing the threshold into where she’d be sheltered from the whistle’s dreaded cry.

Yang awoke to the horrible sound of  _ that fucking whistle,  _ but she managed to not fall out of her bunk like last time. She covered her ears, which was just enough to make it feel like her eardrums weren’t going to burst at any moment. She could feel Blake jerking and jumping out of bed below her, and she watched her partner quickly wrestle the whistle from her sister’s hands and throw it across the room, where the flimsy thing shattered against the wall. Ruby looked dumbfounded, but the surprise in her eyes was replaced with smugness.

“You know I have more.” Ruby stated matter-of-factly.

Blake groaned and waved her off. Despite her state of undress, she left the dorm to get her weapon from her locker, as she always did. She didn’t mind being the last to shower.

Yang managed to drag herself out of her bed only after her sister threatened to use one of her many other whistles. As she moved to hers and Blake’s dresser to get her clothes ready, Weiss exited the bathroom. She walked to her dresser in her underwear with her hair wrapped in a towel. It was in that moment that Yang realized that Ruby was fully dressed, and in a new outfit, too. In Patch, she mostly wore hot pants and tank tops, even when training with Qrow. Ruby caught her sister looking at her outfit and looked away sheepishly. Yang shot her a grin and a thumbs up since she was too groggy to speak.

Out of all the members of Team RWBY, Ruby was the only one who didn’t get dressed in front of others, although she didn’t seem to care much when people changed in front of her. The only person on the team who’d seen more than the skin of her arms, legs, and face was Yang, since they’d bathed together as children. Now, though, Ruby even kept herself hidden while at home on Patch, which Yang found rather strange, but opted not to ask her about. It’s not like it was bothering anybody. 

As Yang set her clothing on Blake’s bed and headed to the bathroom, Ruby sat on Weiss’ bed and played on her Scroll. Or, at least, it looked like she was playing on her Scroll. Really, she was watching Weiss dressing herself. In her mind, she tried to make it seem not creepy, but there was really no way of denying that what she was doing rated at least a solid six on the creepy scale. She tried to justify that she just wanted to see her partner’s new outfit, and that was really most of the reason she was watching, but she also found her gaze hanging on her partner’s legs and neck.  _ Totally  _ in a non-creepy way.

“Ruby.” The voice jerked her out of her trance, and she felt the blush heating up her collar as Weiss addressed her. “Are you alright? You’re staring.”

Oh, Dust, that was weird. She was weird. She didn’t usually stare! Why is she staring now!  _ Still staring! _ “U-uh, it’s nothing , I—”

“Oh!” Weiss exclaimed, “You’ve got a new outfit! I didn’t notice when you woke me up.”

Ruby eagerly took the opportunity to escape her excuses, “I did! I grew out of all my other stuff, so, yeah,” She stood from the bed and held the skirt out to the side a bit, “Is it nice?”

Weiss smiled and went back to clothing herself. “I like it. It’s more rugged.”

Ruby beamed. That was  _ exactly  _ what she wanted to hear, she just hadn’t realized it.  _ Rugged.  _ Perfect. “Thanks!” 

Ruby was about to say something else when Weiss started pulling on a pair of light grey slacks. Ruby could feel herself freaking out internally.  _ Pants? Weiss?  _ Ruby’s panic only intensified as she watched her partner tuck her dress shirt— how hadn’t she noticed that before? — into her slacks. The white shirt’s top two buttons were left undone, revealing a tasteful but conservative amount of porcelain skin. Ruby watched as Weiss rolled up her cuffs, revealing that they were a bright red on the inside, and pushed them up to her elbows. 

To say the least, Ruby was dumbfounded.

Weiss zipped up the sides of her white ankle boots and looked back at Ruby. “You’re staring again.”

Ruby shook her head, “Wuh, What?”

Weiss gave a wan smile. “Is it that bad?”

Ruby jumped off of the bed and held her hands out in front of her. “No! No, it’s great it’s just… not a dress.”

Weiss smiled and fiddled with the shirt’s cuff. “It’s… new,” she smirked, “Father was not happy.”

Ruby stood in awe at her partner, “And your hair?” She blurted out.

“It was getting in the way, and it was a hassle to wash, so instead of letting father find me ‘the best hairdresser in Remnant’, I cut it myself. With Myrtenaster.” Her smirk intensified, “In front of my father.”

Ruby blinked. “Dust, Weiss, that’s… kinda hardcore.”

“I know, right!” Weiss said giddily, then nervously fiddled with her collar as she schooled her expression. “I mean, yes. It is… hardcore, by my standards.”

Ruby watched in awe as Weiss looped a white belt around her slacks and pulled one last thing out of her dresser. She threw it over her right shoulder and tied it across her chest and under her left arm with a silvery cord. It was a white half-cape that covered her entire right arm, and Ruby gently grabbed a corner to look closely at the embroidery on its trim, where red flowers danced around ice blue snowflakes in a beautifully made thread design. Ruby couldn’t keep the whisper from escaping, “It’s beautiful.”

Weiss blushed and sheepishly avoided her partner’s eyes. “Thank you, Ruby. I actually did the embroidery myself.”

Ruby dropped the cape and her mouth hung open. “You what! You can do that?”

Weiss’ blush faded, and she took on a smug expression in its place, “I most certainly can.”

Ruby rushed to their dresser and yanked open her drawer, pulling out her cloak and holding it for Weiss to see, “Could you embroider my cloak?” 

Weiss flinched at the request, but her surprise died quickly. “I could.”

Ruby bounced on her toes, “Will you, please? Please?” 

Weiss smiled at her partner and put her hand on Ruby’s shoulder, her cape draping across her side as she reached out, “Yes.”

“When!” Ruby exclaimed in joy as she hurriedly wrapped her cloak around her and secured it with a new Rose crest brooch. 

Weiss let go of her partner and shrugged, “We’ll see.”

The gentle creak of the bathroom door and an exodus of steam heralded Yang’s return from her shower. She was completely nude and heaved a great sigh as she strode across the room to don the clothes she had set on the bed. Her choice of clothing was relatively simple compared to the other two occupants. She chose to wear an unadorned yellow t-shirt and black joggers, along with a dark leather fur-lined bomber jacket. She retained the orange scarf she’d worn the year before, but swapped out her boots for a pair of black sneakers with yellow laces. It was a comfortable outfit meant to be easy to move around in while also providing moderate protection from the elements, or at least enough that her Aura wouldn’t have to do all the work to keep her warm. The sneakers, though, would have to go if they had a mission in the snow, but she was prepared for that.

As Yang got to work tying her shoelaces into a double-knot, Blake stepped into the dorm with Gambol Shroud in hand. As soon as she walked in, she took notice of the heiress’ new style. A quirked eyebrow was the only indicator that she was moderately surprised, “Woah, Weiss. That’s… new.”

Weiss smirked and Yang looked up, having not noticed the heiress when she’d walked through the dorm. “Oh shit! That’s a good look, Weiss!”

The compliments added a hint of a blush to Weiss’ face, but her reply was cut off by her partner’s frustrated cry, “I got a new look, too!”

Blake and Yang looked at Ruby, then each other, then Ruby again. They shrugged, causing Ruby to whine at their flippant dismissal. Weiss, however, gave Ruby a pat on the back. “I think it looks dashing, Ruby.”

Ruby blushed and beamed at her partner. “Well I think you look dashing, too.”

“Get a room, lovebirds!” Yang groaned as she pushed open the door and left to get her weapons. Weiss and Ruby followed not long after her. 

The Armory, or Locker Room as some students half-jokingly called it, was lined wall-to-wall with lockers, each of which held a student’s weapon. No student could figure out how the lockers were ordered, since they certainly weren’t alphabetical, and they had been installed before the teams were decided. They seemed to be completely random in their sequence, which is why Weiss hated it. Somehow, she always managed to arrive just in time to see Jaune and Pyrrha and, with their lockers’ proximity, she had to watch as Pyrrha so obviously flirted with the boy, only for him to either miss out completely on it or get flustered and dismiss it. It frustrated her to no end to watch Pyrrha continually flounder in her romantic attempts due to his ignorance, but she also knew that the blame could equally be hers since she hadn’t come upfront and said she’d liked him. Weiss couldn’t fathom why they weren’t just straight with each other, it’d make everything easier.

Ruby was at her side quickly, cradling her weapon in her arms and dotingly stroking it, and Weiss could see that it did, in fact have a new, much more advanced-looking, scope. The magnetic clip at the back of her belt was always a much quicker way of sheathing her weapon, but Weiss never opted for the quick and easy, which meant she usually had Ruby waiting for her to finish getting Myrtenaster in its belt frog. She’d never asked why Ruby didn’t just go back to the dorm when she was finished getting her weapon, but she stopped complaining about the extra company. It was quite pleasant, now.

What was even more pleasant, though, was when she got her second weapon out of her locker. Ruby beamed, and Weiss could practically feel the joy radiating off of her as she took out Rosenwache, the cup-hilted main-gauche that Ruby had made for her on her birthday. She’d gushed about forging it and infusing it with inert Dust crystals during the winter break, the latter of which was a process she’d never done before. As a result, the silvery blade sparkled and shone more than any normal blade would, and it could also serve as a secondary catalyst for her Semblance. She sheathed it in its own frog on her left side, opposite to Myrtenaster.

“Weiss, you look so cool!” Her partner gushed. “Do you really like Rosin… Rosenwock?”

A smile crawled across Weiss’ face. No one had ever said she looked  _ cool  _ before. “Ruby, I’ve been using  _ Rosenwache  _ since you gave it to me. Of course I like it.”

“Are you sure? I can make it better, I can give it a dust chamber like Myrtenaster, or make it longer, I can make it a gun if you want, I can—”

“It’s perfect,” Weiss insisted, “I love it, Ruby.”

And she really did. Though she’d wielded Myrtenaster for years, Myrtenaster wasn’t really  _ her  _ weapon. Sure, by all legal means she owned it, but someone else made it, someone she didn’t know. Rather than build her weapon like Ruby did, her father commissioned it from ‘the best weaponsmith in Remnant’. Rosenwache, though, Weiss knew it was made with care  _ just  _ for her. She could picture Ruby bent over a forge for hours just to make her that dagger, imbuing it with Dust, failing miserably the first time, then trying again and again until she made something she knew Weiss would want. Weiss may not have made it herself, but it  _ felt  _ like hers. It wasn’t made to be ‘the best sword in all of Remnant’, it was made to be Weiss’. She swiftly pulled the dagger from its sheath and flourished it with one hand, flipped it over, and balanced the tip of the blade on her index finger. Thankfully, her Aura kept her from getting a rather uncomfortable wound. 

Ruby was, as she often tends to be, in awe of her partner. “That’s so cool! Can you do any other cool tricks?”

Weiss smirked, oh she most certainly could. Plenty of time alone and/or bored in Atlas meant she had plenty of time to learn a few tricks, many of which she ‘accidentally’ let her father see. From the tip of her finger, she flicked the dagger into the air and above her head. As it came down, Ruby looked poised to launch at any moment should it look like she was going to be hurt, but Weiss caught it. With speed and ferocity Ruby had not seen from her, she stepped back, allowing the blade to fall in front of her face before turning her head and darting out like a snake, catching the blade of the dagger between her teeth. With steel between her teeth, she gave a sharp and practiced bow.

Ruby looked like she was about to pass out, and even Yang was looking at her with a dazed and impressed expression. She looked around the Armory, and it seemed like everyone was giving her that same look. Weiss felt a smirk creeping, and she was filled with a new sensation. She felt proud, she felt powerful, she felt—

“Holy shit, Weiss,” Yang said as she gawked, “That was badass!”

Yes.  _ Badass. _

“W-Weiss, that was…” Ruby started, her voice ringing with disbelief, and a hint of a blush tinging her face, “That was  _ so cool! _ ”

Ruby’s look of admiration was enough to make her want to do it again, but she realized she’d gotten a lot of attention within the Armory. Almost everyone was looking at her with a dumbfounded expression, probably since most of them still thought she was a prim-and-proper ice queen, despite how much Ruby has insisted that she’s changed. She briefly considered doing it anyways, regardless of the attention she was getting, but the buzzing of her Scroll made her change her mind. Quickly, she sheathed the dagger and fished the device from her pocket.

_ >Glynda Goodwitch (7:43 AM): _

_ Today’s class will be held in the Amphitheater. Make sure you bring your weapons. _

Weiss scoffed. No one in Beacon left their weapons in their lockers, save for beginning freshmen. It may have been an unwritten rule, but it was one that every student of Beacon Academy followed unless told otherwise. Before Ruby could gush about her anymore, she tugged her out of the Armory by the arm. They had plenty of time to get to the Amphitheater, but Weiss intended to be early, and the fact that it was in the Amphitheater meant that she didn’t need to go back to the dorm to get their notes.

Uncharacteristically, Ruby allowed Weiss to drag her down the hallways of Beacon. Usually she’d be the one doing the pulling, much to Weiss’ chagrin, and using her Semblance to blast through the halls and towards their destination. Now, though, Ruby let her partner take the lead. “Did you check your scroll?” Weiss asked.

“Uh, no?”

“We’re in the Arena today.” Amphitheater, Arena. Different names, same purpose. No student in Beacon actually called it the Amphitheater, even when it was being used for that purpose. The  _ Arena  _ was where students of Beacon  _ lived,  _ it’s where they were at their fullest. The proving ground of their skills, their weapons, their teamwork, it was a constant incentive to  _ be better. _ Sadly, it was closed most of the time, only open for public addresses, school functions, and ‘class’. 

Everyone knew what ‘class’ meant if it was in the Arena: Sparring. Glynda would stand in the middle, tap on the screen of her Scroll, and call out the participants. Only rarely did everyone get to fight, and unsettled rivalries were often settled (or worsened) in the gym’s sandpit, or outside of school. Being caught fighting outside of Beacon Academy was grounds for immediate suspension, however, so most favored the former.

Not that Weiss had any rivals, most people were simply too intimidated by her surname to give her any lip, and the only people who didn’t fall into that category were her friends. That didn’t mean she avoided fighting. On the contrary, she loved it. It was something she could constantly improve in, and Weiss always wanted to improve. She sparred in the sandpits more than anyone she knew, especially since she got Rosenwache. 

Sparring became an almost daily occurrence after that, one which she most often shared with her partner. There was something more inherently  _ right  _ about sparring with Ruby than anyone else. For example, Yang was quick and close, and never gave her any time to recover, making the matchup pretty much moot since Yang would oppress her until she backed out of the pit or ended up eating sand, meaning that she had a shameful losing streak of 10-3 in Yang’s favor.

Her matchup with Blake fared only slightly better. Since Weiss was more stationary and defensive than the acrobatic Blake, she would let the Faunus wear herself out while simply deflecting Gambol Shroud’s pitifully small rounds and batting away her various clones. The Fire Dust clones, however, had been a huge problem when she’d started fighting against Blake, but she’d found out how to almost nullify their force with her inertia-dampening Glyphs. Unfortunately, it had taken a long time for her to learn that strategy, which gave Blake a sizable early lead, making her bouts won a solid 6 to Weiss’ 4.

Fighting with JNPR was more hit-or-miss, though. Fighting Ren was like fighting Blake, just easier since his Semblance didn’t hold much combat utility. Bouts with Nora were always unbearably humiliating, since she usually brought Nora to the brink, only to be slammed out of the sandpit with a single lucky hit. Fighting Pyrrha was about as futile as fighting General Ironwood or Winter since she was outclassed in virtually every regard, and most of their duels ended in Pyrrha simply throwing her weapons out of her hands with her Semblance. Fighting with Jaune was, surprisingly, the most entertaining. 

Jaune didn’t have any speed Semblance, he didn’t have any Glyphs, he didn’t have exploding Shadow clones. His sword wasn’t even a gun. No, what Jaune had was simplicity. He had a sword, he had a shield, and he could amplify his and others’ Auras. Funnily enough, they both had an unspoken agreement to use Dust and their Semblances as little as possible, if at all, when duelling. There was just something so organic about the fencer and the swordsman sparring. There were no fancy acrobatics, just one-on-one, steel-on-steel fighting. It was refreshing, which is why she preferred to fight Jaune out of all the other members of JNPR, regardless of the fact that his personality left a little to be desired.

With Ruby, however, there was no equal. Whereas Pyrrha squashed her in every battle, Ruby  _ pushed  _ her. Their bouts always ended with both of them a hair’s breadth away from defeat, the victor usually decided in a sloppy, exhausted move or a long, exhausting play that finally paid off. In a fight they fit together like puzzle pieces, simply because their fighting styles were complete opposites. Weiss fought on the inside, mostly defensively, without much movement, and Ruby fought on the outside with reckless offense, and  _ all  _ of her attacks came from her momentum. The two formed an odd, but fitting dance with Ruby taking the lead and encircling her partner, attacking her from all angles, and Weiss molding and adapting quickly to each new direction of attack. Ruby would zip in towards Weiss, Weiss would cut her attack off with a Dust spell or a Glyph, Ruby would go straight through it or around it, and Weiss would adjust accordingly. Ruby would disappear in a flash of roses, and Weiss would turn around to parry the attack from behind, only to find that it had been a bluff and Ruby was now behind her. Ruby would come in from above with what was sure to be a crushing attack, only to be welcomed with multiple black Glyphs that killed her momentum, ruining her attack and delivering her straight to Weiss’ sword.

Weiss revelled in the back-and-forth nature of their duels, and they both left the sandpit feeling better than ever, basking in the feeling of a hard-fought battle with neither really caring about whether they won or lost. Weiss only kept track so she could remember that, with each battle, they both improved. The score was 51-49 in Ruby’s favor. Weiss wished they could’ve sparred over the summer so that she could even that out (not that she really cared about who won or lost), but alas, being in Atlas was pretty much the same as a house arrest sentence, and she didn’t  _ dare  _ invite Ruby to that blasted hellhole. The poor girl would be chewed up and spit out by those monsters. No, she would have to find some other way to spar during the breaks. She had a plan in mind, however, one that father would probably be  _ elated  _ to hear.

Regardless, they arrived at the Amphitheater, albeit slower than usual. Weiss pushed open the door to the Arena, and noticed that the stage which Ozpin had spoken upon yesterday was gone, retracted into the floor. Yes, they would  _ definitely  _ be fighting. Weiss could barely contain her excitement.

Instead of pushing through the second set of doors ahead, she turned and went up the stairs into the stands. Ruby still trailed behind her as they ascended, and sat next to her when Weiss found a spot. Not that open spots were lacking, though, quite the opposite, actually. Ruby and Weiss had arrived ten minutes early, even without the use of Ruby’s semblance. The arena was quite empty, save for Glynda Goodwitch, who stood in the center and seemed to be having a heated discussion with someone over her Scroll.

Ruby and Weiss strained to hear what she was saying, but it wasn’t too hard since her whispers were too angry to be quiet. 

“We have  _ eight minutes  _ until class begins, you  _ will  _ be here!”

They definitely couldn’t hear the person’s response from the Scroll, but they could tell it didn’t make Goodwitch happy. Her eyebrows furrowed and she looked like she was about to throw the device.

“Do  _ not  _ be so flippant with me! If you don’t get here in time, I will have your license suspended! Did you— Did he— Agh!”

When Glynda’s expression turned into one of pure fury, they realized that the person she’d been speaking to had hung up abruptly. She grunted in frustration, then jumped when she noticed that Ruby and Weiss were in the stands and had heard her lose it at someone. Before she could make excuses, the sound of conversation thrummed through the Amphitheater, drawing her attention to the students who began to file into the stands. Glynda checked her watch, and Weiss could see her jaw clench in frustration.

The first class of the year began as one would expect it to, albeit just not in the classroom. Glynda stood in the center of the Amphitheater and addressed her students. She told them how impressed she was in their performances last year, and how eager she was to see how they would improve as they went on more missions and spent less time in class. 

“However,” Glynda looked at her watch again and frowned, “You will also have a new class.”

The audience’s response was mostly confused, with a few gorans.

“This class will not be taking any extra time out of your day, and it will, in fact, be replacing your physical education period. In light of recent developments, we have become aware of the fact that you are all Hunters, and you have been trained to fight Grimm.”

A few more confused noises, Yang mumbled something along the lines of ‘yeah, no shit’.

“However, none of you have been explicitly taught  _ how  _ to fight against other people.”

Everyone who had been mumbling swallowed their words.

“Your new instructor,” She glanced down to her watch again, “ _ Should  _ be here soon. In the meantime, I will describe the course. Instead of your physical education course with Mister Lee, your new instructor will be engaging you in a self-defense course.”

A lot of people whined ‘ugh, why’. Weiss frowned, she’d liked Mr. Lee. He was a buffalo Faunus of an imposingly tall stature, and with rippling muscles to boot. Despite his appearance, however, he was quite gentle and always encouraged his students to perform past what they thought were their limits. He was also the reason that her lithe form had become more toned and solid than it had been when she first walked into Beacon.

As if Glynda had heard her disappointment at the news, she reassured them, “Worry not, Mr. Lee is still going to be working at Beacon. In fact, when Ozpin offered him a substantial sum of Lien for his performance as a teacher, he refused, and stated that he would rather stay here and help all of you.” Glynda smiled, a rare sight, “He will be your new counselor, and his office is adjacent to mine.”

Weiss could practically feel the relief washing over the crowd of students. Apparently everyone else liked him, too.

Glynda schooled her expression. “Now, back to the matter of this self-defense course. Over the course of this semester, you will be taught to defend yourself from threats beyond the Grimm. This will  _ not  _ be the same as sparring. You will be placed in various realistic scenarios where you must—”

The door to the Amphitheater floor crashed against the wall as a boot forced it open.

“Hey, kids,” Qrow said as he stepped to Glynda’s side, “I’m your new teacher.”

Ruby screamed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one was a real ho to write
> 
> things are gonna start getting darker soon
> 
> dog bless


	4. Dog

Adam Taurus was not happy. Then again, he rarely was. At the moment, however, his anger, no, his _seething hatred_ could be blamed upon and directed towards a singular person in the room: _That bitch._

No one in the White Fang knew who she was, but one day she just strolled in, killed a few Fang, then demanded that they bend to her will, and as much as Adam would’ve liked to gut her right then and there, he was being tied down by his leaders. He could almost understand their desire to not only have her aboard, but to give her a say in the White Fang’s operations; She was strong (the safehouse’s foyer had a bout a dozen charred corpses to attest to that), she clearly had brains, and most importantly, she had connections. Roman Torchwick, namely. When she’d brought that cocky, arrogant asshole to their safehouse, Adam had nearly gutted that bastard. Then, they started making demands. They needed men, weapons, mountains of Dust, a fucking _train_. 

Worse still, they got results. People started to pay up more often, their protests drew more followers, their meetings had more recruits than ever before, and they _broke into Vale_ . It was incredible, it was awe-inspiring. They’d accomplished their goal of breaking Vale open, and the only thing that kept their plan from going _too well_ were the Hunters. They’d proved that Vale was vulnerable. Of course, the White Fang hadn’t taken credit for that, that would’ve driven people away from them. No, instead they offered to repair and protect the affected Faunus-owned homes and businesses for a low price and the promise of loyalty. That had gotten lots of goodwill and more than a few recruits. 

Did they benefit the White Fang? Yes, even Adam would begrudgingly admit that. However, that did not change what he hated most about them: they were _human._ The hand that would pull the White Fang up was the same hand that would push the Faunus down. They spoke as if they knew the oppression his people had and continued to face, and it sickened him that his fellow Fang would listen to them.

Andre, the Lieutenant who was still mocked for failing to kill that Schnee girl, was pointing at the map laid out before them. It was marked with lines and crosses noting districts, police patrols, Fang presence, and planned hits. “Operations to secure the Slums have gone mostly unchallenged. There was a shootout in the commercial district, but Buck’s team made it out with most of the dust, and only one injury.” 

“Cops seem to be missing a lot more often, lately,” Roman remarked arrogantly, his cigar hanging loosely from his lips, “I wonder why that is.”

Adam saw his smirk and had to fight to keep his hand from drawing his sword. How desperately he wanted to cut that smirk off his face. Paying off so many cops made a decent dent in their finances, but it was beyond worth the price now that so few were dying in robberies. Still, it didn’t feel right to Adam, it didn’t feel properly earned. They _needed_ that resistance from cops, they needed the fight. It was what united them, and it was what pushed them to be stronger. 

Andre grunted. “No doubt thanks to you, Torchwick.”

Adam scowled openly, now. Andre had been such a brown-noser the moment those humans started staking their claim. No wonder he’d failed to kill the girl, he was soft. Adam had no doubt that he could cut him in two right here, and the bitch probably wouldn’t care. The local White Fang cell leader, a wolf Faunus by the name of Abraham, even looked at Andre with disgust. “Cinder,” Abraham rumbled as he stroked his long, greying beard, “We’re going to need a lot of people if this plan is going to work, and there’s no way of knowing if we’ll even be able to make it out alive.”

Cinder nodded. “Yes, lives will surely be lost,” her tone was languid and seductive, but it felt a little _off_ when it came out of her, like it wasn’t right for her face, “But sacrifice is necessary. The plan will succeed, and they will think it failed. The foothold you will establish will give us enough breathing room to make bigger moves in Vale and beyond.”

Adam growled, “And what of the hundreds of Faunus that will die?”

Abraham shot a look at him. “They die to pave the way for our future, Bull.”

“Bull?” Adam sneered, “Perhaps you should call me dog, seeing as that is how you treat me. I have—”

“Fine then, _dog,”_ Abraham growled, “Now, heel.”

Adam felt a fire in him. His hand shot to the handle of Wilt, and he stepped into a ready stance. 

Abraham stood, his huge, muscular arms crossed before him. His long, sharp teeth were bared and his tall lupine ears stood straight up. “You are only here for your _tactical_ input, Adam. You are not here to challenge me, and you are not here for any kind of greater strategic or social input. _You_ do not plan, you _execute.”_

Abraham leaned forward until he was well within Adam’s space.

“You are a _boy._ A dedicated boy, I will grant, but you are a _boy._ You are rash, crude, and you are a fool.” He stood back up and gave Adam a disgusted sneer, “No wonder you drove that traitorous girl away.”

Adam roared and charged forward, Wilt exploding from Blush. The room was silent in that moment, save for Andre who shouted and tried to reach forward and save his leader, only to find the action futile. Abraham stood tall, holding Wilt by its red blade in one hand. Blood ran down his arm, but he didn’t seem particularly bothered by that. 

Abraham’s other hand shot forward and grabbed Adam by the neck, hoisting him into the air and forcing him to drop his sword. Adam’s legs kicked as he sputtered for air and clawed at Abraham’s hand. “You will remember this, _dog,_ as the last time you ever uttered a single word of disrespect in my presence.”

Abraham dropped Wilt and drove his fist into Adam’s gut before dropping him. Adam fell to the ground with a restrained cry and gasped for air as his arms cradled his stomach.

“This will not happen again. If it does, the rest of your life will be short and tortured. Andre,” Abraham turned to his lieutenant, “Take the dog for a walk.”

Andre nodded and picked Adam’s weapon up off the ground, then dragged its wielder out of the room by the collar. 

Adam could barely see past the blinding pain in his gut, and he only half-registered the fact that he was being dragged along the safehouse’s hard concrete floor. He heard the creak of a heavy metal door opening, then felt himself flying through the air and landing on cold, wet pavement. Wilt hit the ground next to him. It was raining in Vale, and Adam could feel every drop soaking his outfit. The pain was beginning to fade, and he pushed himself up on his knees. 

He was in an alleyway deep in the heart of the Faunus ghettos, or the Slums, as the Fang called them. It reeked, the air was thick with the scent of wet trash, and it made Adam wish that he had simply been knocked unconscious. He reached over, the straining muscles of his abdomen flaring up in pain as he picked up his sword and slowly sheathed it.

Adam had to fight the urge to vomit as he stood and began shambling out of the alleyway. Why did being reminded of Blake still send him into a rage? It had been so long since the betrayal, why couldn’t he get away from her? Probably because everyone mocked him for it. Even more than a year after it happened, he could still hear the other members of the White Fang jeering at him behind his back. He was pathetic, and it was all her fault. _She_ was the one who abandoned him when he needed her the most! She _ruined_ him. 

He didn’t realize he’d walked himself to the nearest bar, _The Mouse Trap._ Dust, what a stupid name, just seeing it made him want to risk being berated by Abraham again. He pushed the pitted, ugly wooden door and begrudgingly entered the establishment. As soon as he walked in, he was punched by the acrid scent of alcohol, vomit, a hint of blood, and the general stink of the bar’s patrons. He remembered taking Blake to a place like this, albeit a nicer one, and how she’d immediately crinkled her nose in disgust. She’d always been arrogant like that.

Adam walked to the bar and sat on the dingy, ripped leather stool. He flagged the bartender, who gave him a curious look.

“ID?” The bartender requested.

Adam growled and leaned forward, clutching the shirt of the bartender, “If you don’t give me a drink I will cut you in two.”

The bartender raised his hands in acquiescence, “Fine, fine,” under his breath, he added, “Not like I hear that one every week.”

Adam never was much of a drinker, but now seemed like a good a time as any to start. He didn’t know the name of the drink he’d been given, all he knew was that it was strong, and didn’t sit pleasantly on his tongue. He drank it anyways.

Before long, he was floating on the sea of conversation that the bar patrons provided. He could feel his senses dulling, and the edges of the bar blurred. He had just enough sense left to realize that he should probably stop, but he didn’t. The bartender kept putting drinks out, and he kept drinking. Perhaps he was trying to kill him. Adam laughed to himself, it would probably take more than alcohol.

Adam must have drunk too much, because he didn’t even register that he’d been thrown out of the bar at some point, and he was surrounded by large, angry Faunus. They shouted at him, their voices pounding against his addled brain. They were saying something about money, but Adam couldn’t decipher it for the life of him. There was clearly a problem, though, and he knew how to solve problems.

The rasp of Wilt being pulled from Blush filled the air. The people accosting him didn’t seem to care much, though, and one even laughed at what must have been a very clearly drunken fighting stance.

“Look, kid,” One of them, a hyena Faunus, judging by the wiry hair and spotty face marks, “You don’t have to get yourself killed, tonight. Just cough up the Lien you racked up at the bar.”

Adam tried to say something in response, but the words came out wrong and trailed off.

One of the men spoke around long, intimidating tusks. “Let’s just get this over with, Travis, doesn’t even look like he’d feel it like this.”

The hyena Faunus, Travis, sighed. “Yeah, you’re right. Sorry, kid,” he cracked his knuckles, “But ya gotta pay somehow.”

A fist came crashing out of nowhere into Adam’s face. He recoiled and twisted with the punch’s recoil, slashing Wilt outwards in the process. A couple of the men around him stepped back upon seeing the red sword, but none of them ran. 

A kick came from behind, striking Adam behind the knee and forcing him to kneel. Almost blindly, he slashed upwards, feeling a little satisfaction when he felt the blade encounter some resistance. Looking up, Adam saw the he’d cut a long, red line up the torso of the tusked Faunus.

Another kick landed solidly on his side, forcing him to the ground. He tried to roll with the impact, but his inebriated body could barely comply with his instincts, leaving him sprawled across the pavement. A boot crashed into his ribs, and he felt one of them crack. His Aura was barely there, what with him being significantly intoxicated. He rolled away and got to his hands and knees.

Once more, a kick came, but Adam was able to get away just before it could land. He staggered to his feet and slashed out in a wide, horizontal arc. It didn’t hit anyone, but it gave him some space to work with. He could see now that there were four Faunus before him, and the one he’d slashed earlier was leaning against a wall and clutching his bleeding wound. The Faunus before him were armed with various blunt objects; a crude club, a long metal quarterstaff that was really just a stick of rebar, a chain with a block of concrete on the end, and a stick with a bunch of nails sticking out of it. The weapons’ wielders seemed to be, respectively, a lanky rat Faunus, a cougar Faunus, a hulking bear Faunus, and Travis.

The cougar charged at him first, thrusting his staff outward. Adam had sobered up just enough to be able to pivot himself away from the staff, but he wasn’t cognizant enough to remember that he was fighting more than one person. The rat came up from behind him and slammed her wooden club, which Adam suspected was just a chair leg, into Adam’s back, causing him to roar in pain. He kept himself from staggering, however, and dashed backwards, barging directly into the rat Faunus behind him. She cried out as she impacted the concrete pavement, and Adam kept her down with a swift stomp to the tibia, which easily gave out and snapped, causing her to scream louder. 

Adam smirked, only to receive a rather painful poke in the gut from the rebar staff. He coughed and doubled over as bile threatened to erupt from his throat, but he managed to keep it down. As swiftly as his addled form would allow, his hand gripped the staff and yanked it towards him. The cougar tripped and fell forwards, and Adam thrusted Wilt towards his chest. He didn’t quite pierce the cougar’s heart, but he managed to get the blade through his shoulder. 

The Faunus cried out and dropped the staff, falling to the ground as he clutched his shoulder. The satisfaction in Adam was ruined as something huge and heavy slammed into his side, sending him a few feet into the air. Adam crashed through the glass of an abandoned storefront, causing a few Faunus squatters to scramble and run from the building. He felt the jagged shards of glass slice and dig into his skin, but he managed to get back to his feet in time to watch the bear Faunus step through the broken window along with Travis. They both held expressions of unmasked rage.

Adam felt the telltale tingle of his Aura trying to repair the various cuts and internal injuries he had, but it was still weak due to his lingering drunkenness. He back-stepped, avoiding the wide swing of the bear’s makeshift flail, which crashed spectacularly through the rotten wood wall of the building. Travis charged forward and swung his spiked club at Adam, but he ducked under the stick just in time. Adam thrust his palm out, solidly striking Travis in the gut. Travis let out a high-pitched wail, and barely managed to keep a hold on his weapon. 

Adam raised Wilt, ready to execute the idiot who’d try to hurt him, but a chain lashed against his hand, knocking the blade free. Travis bolted forwards, tackling Adam and sending them both to the ground with Adam straddled beneath him. His fists crashed into Adam’s face once, twice, four times before Adam was able to fight back. Blood flowed freely from Adam’s broken nose and split lip, but he slammed his head forward into his assailant anyways. He felt his horns against the hyena’s skull, and he heard his mask crack and split. 

The two halves of the bone white mask fell to the floor, revealing one striking blue eye and one red, ugly brand that ruined his other eye. Travis scrambled backwards and held his head, groaning. Adam took the short break offered to pick Wilt back up off the ground, but was interrupted just as he took hold of it again.

One large, beefy hand snatched Adam by his red hair and hoisted him up to his knees. The pain in his scalp was blinding, and he cried out, only to be silenced as a chain wrapped around his throat and constricted his windpipe.

Had the bear Faunus been given an extra second of time, he would’ve been able to easily tighten the chain’s hold on his neck, crushing Adam’s windpipe and probably breaking his neck, but Adam managed to launch himself backwards, giving the chains around his neck a little slack as he kicked recklessly, striking the bear in the knee. 

The bear Faunus roared in pain and knelt. Adam pulled the chain away from his throat and slashed upwards with Wilt, severing it and causing the two halves to fall way from him. He quickly turned around, rage in his eyes, and thrust the blade straight through the chest of the kneeling bear, piercing his heart and causing him to fall over, dead. 

Behind him, Travis squeaked and backed up against a wall. “Woah-woah, there, guy, al-alright, I’ll leave ya alone! No one else has gotta die, I won’t tell anyone!”

Adam sneered in disgust. Now, he begged. They always do that when they’re alone. “You should have thought of that before _you_ tried to kill me.”

Travis’ hands were raised in surrender, “We wasn’t gonna kill ya! We just wanted the money ya owed the bar!”

Adam had enough. He attacked thrice with Wilt, once slashing Travis across the face, second slashing diagonally down his body, and lastly thrusting Wilt through his throat. Travis burbled, his ruined facial features covered in blood that streamed down Wilt’s blade. Adam looked him squarely in his last functioning eye, watching as the light died within him.

Satisfaction. Another victory.

Adam pulled the blade free from the corpse’s throat and slumped backwards against a wall. The rush of adrenaline faded, leaving his muscles feeling dead. He was lucky. He should’ve died, or been beaten and robbed what with him being in a drunken stupor with a dead Aura for most of the fight. Beyond lucky. 

Adam felt his stomach twist and wrench and he doubled over. Vomit and blood spewed freely past his lips, forming a disgusting puddle below him, and leaving an even worse taste in his mouth. 

Adam stabilized himself with a hand against the wall and slumped out through the back of the building. Someone would come soon and find the bodies, and he needed to find some place to sleep. He wouldn’t go back to the safehouse until Andre messaged him for a mission, he couldn’t risk being thrown out for the last time by Abraham, especially since he might be leading heat to them. 

Slowly, Adam limped through the Slums’ alleyways, eventually finding another abandoned building filled with Faunus squatters. They were shocked by his sword, which he only just realized he hadn’t sheathed, since it was covered in blood. They didn’t run away though, they were probably used to seeing bloodied people come and hide in an abandoned building. Adam sheathed Wilt and covered his face with a hand, then made his way to the back of the building, where he ascended a flight of shoddy wooden steps. The room in the upper floor was relatively empty, with only a few Faunus sleeping under a mound of paper, old blankets, and refuse. 

Adam cleared his throat, getting the attention of the now-awake occupants, “Any of you touch me,” he growled, “You die.”

He limped to the corner of the musty room and set his sheathed sword on the ground, then laid down atop it. The occupants didn’t seem to care much, and just went back to sleep. 

A few sirens began blaring, but Adam ignored them. All of his exhaustion hit him at once, and he passed out on the fetid, rotting wooden flooring.


	5. Scar Tissue

Weiss felt like _hell._ She was sore, her feelings were hurt, and her head was pounding. She was in the infirmary, and she couldn’t bear to look at her partner, but she refused to leave Ruby alone. 

“Weiss, it’s okay,” Ruby insisted. “It’s just a cut.”

Weiss shivered. Just a cut. _Cut._ Weiss had _cut_ Ruby. Qrow had instructed them to spar until their Auras broke in order to give them a more realistic feel as to what combat is really like, and Weiss had cut Ruby. Just an offhand slash with Rosenwache, and Ruby’s Aura had broken without Weiss noticing, and her follow-up with Myrtenaster had _cut_ Ruby. She could remember the feeling of Myrtenaster cutting easily across the flesh of Ruby’s upper arm, how the blood travelled down the length of its blade, how it settled in the blade’s Dust channels, creating a macabre, labyrinthine pattern. She _especially_ remembered the little cry Ruby made before dropping Crescent Rose and clutching the crimson-stained fabric of her shirt.

 _“I_ cut you, Ruby.” Weiss whispered.

“Yeah, you did.” Weiss cringed. “But it’s okay. I’ve been cut before, y’know. _Way_ worse, too. Remember Bartramb?”

Of course she remembered Bartramb. Ruby had nearly _died_ of blood loss. “Bartramb was a Grimm, Ruby. _I_ am your _partner._ I’m not supposed to hurt you.”

Ruby huffed. The sound of rustling sheets was almost enough to make Weiss lift her gaze, but she refused to look at her partner. She didn’t deserve to.

Of course, Ruby wouldn’t have that. Her bare feet slapped against the cold tile of the infirmary as she walked to Weiss. Ruby kneeled in front of her partner, deliberately putting herself within the heiress’ line of sight. She reached out with her good arm and laid a hand on Weiss’ shoulder. “You know, Weiss, if I had hurt you like this, I’d probably be doing the same thing. And, if you were in my position, you’d be doing the same thing I’m doing right now.”

Weiss huffed.

“Probably a bit more harshly, but my point still stands.” Ruby smiled at Weiss.

Damn that girl. It was incredibly difficult to nurture a healthy self-loathing with Ruby around. Weiss slowly met Ruby’s eyes. “I—” She choked. “I’m sorry, Ruby.”

Weiss was pulled in for a one-armed hug by Ruby, one which she eagerly reciprocated. “It’s okay, Weiss.”

Ruby winced as she brought up her bandaged arm to wrap around her partner. It hurt a little, but it was worth it.

The two stayed like that for a long while, just holding each other in the infirmary, until the nurse returned. The tall, ginger woman scolded Ruby for getting out of bed, changed her bandages, checked Ruby’s Aura levels. After much begging, she acquiesced to letting Ruby leave the infirmary, so long as she agreed to not use her Semblance or partake in any otherwise strenuous activity, including, much to Ruby’s chagrin, wielding Crescent Rose.

Weiss escorted Ruby back to their dorm, and Ruby could tell that she was still worried about her, mostly because Weiss was throwing her concerned glances every few steps. Normally, such attention would be appreciated, but Ruby was just getting frustrated with the heiress. “Weiss,” Ruby said, her voice firm. “I’m okay. I’m not going to fall apart the moment I leave your sight.”

Weiss didn’t respond, she just kept leading her through the halls by the hand.

“Weiss, I’m serious. I’m not a kid.” Weiss still didn’t respond. “Weiss, look at me.”

Weiss pushed open the door to the dorm. No one greeted her, what with Yang doing her usual after-class gym routine and Blake doing whatever she does after class. As soon as Weiss entered the room, she escorted her partner to her bed.

Ruby’s jaw clenched. She planted her feet, and didn’t allow Weiss to drag her any further. Weiss turned to Ruby, confusion evident in her expression. “Weiss, _stop.”_ Ruby demanded, her tone firm.

“I’m just trying to take care of you,” Weiss insisted. “The same way you did for me.”

Ruby felt a tug in her heart. She slipped her hand out of Weiss’ grip and shook her head. “Weiss, this is different. _We_ are different. When have you ever known me as someone to just rest?”

Weiss opened her mouth to say something, but opted to stay quiet when she realized she was just going to parrot whatever the nurse had said. Ruby wouldn’t listen to that.

Ruby took her silence as an adequate answer. “I’m gonna get these bandages off, hop in the shower, and then we can go to Vale. Schedule says our first mission is next week, and we need to run some errands.”

Weiss simply nodded. In return, Ruby gave her a small smile before grabbing a set of street clothes from her dresser and stepping into the bathroom. After a couple of minutes, Weiss heard the water turn on. 

Weiss sighed, and untied her half-cape, folded it neatly, and placed it back in her dresser. However, just as she began to close the dresser, she heard a small yelp from the bathroom.

Immediately, Weiss was pressed up against the door. “Are you okay, Ruby? I heard a noise!”

“Yeah— yep, uh-huh, yes. I am _o-kay._ Just, uh, cold water?”

Weiss sighed. Ruby wouldn’t last a second in Atlas society. What a terrible liar. “Ruby, I’m coming in.”

Ruby yelped again. “Don’t look!”

“I’ll cover my eyes.”

Ruby didn’t respond, and Weiss took that as her cue to enter. She placed her hand in front of her eyes, and slowly stepped into the bathroom. Immediately, she was blasted by steam and heat. She blindly stumbled through the restroom towards the sound of rushing water with one hand covering her eyes, and the other in front of her. “Ruby?”

“Y-yes, Weiss?”

Weiss felt the glass door of the bath-shower combo and stopped. “What happened?”

“Well, I, uh… I guess stretching counts as strenuous, doesn’t it? I kind of, uh, reopened the cut. Partially.”

“I’m going to open my eyes, Ruby.”

“What! Why!”

“I need to see it, to make sure you’re okay.”

“Weiss, I’m fine, really, it’s better than it looks.”

 _That_ did not bode well. “I’m going to look, Ruby.”

“Wait! Not yet!” Weiss kept her eyes shielded. “O-okay, you can look, now.”

Weiss felt her heart speed up as she lifted her hand from her eyes. She was met with a steamed-over glass, on the other side of which she could make out the vague, fuzzy silhouette of her partner. She placed her hand on the glass, and slid it to the side.

Ruby looked over her shoulder briefly, gasped, and turned her head back to the wall. Weiss was _looking at her!_ “Y-y’know, Weiss, people usually go on a couple of dates before seeing each other na— _like this.”_ Ruby’s words, though meant to be joking, carried no humor. Ruby’s voice lacked all confidence, and she felt herself shrinking under her partner’s gaze.

Weiss stared slack jawed. She was speechless, and she barely heard what Ruby had said. The cut on Ruby’s arm was, as she said, partially reopened, causing blood to stream down her arm and create a disturbing contrast as it struck the tub’s white surface. That was minor, however, compared to what Weiss saw on Ruby’s back. Her partner’s back was a mural of scar tissue. Three of the most painful-looking scars Weiss had ever seen crossed Ruby’s back in raised, pink ridges of uneven tissue.

Ruby turned again after a few moments of Weiss saying nothing, and realized her mistake. Weiss was reaching out towards her back, her expression filled with disbelief. Before Weiss could touch her scars, Ruby spun around, grabbing her partner’s wrist. Ruby was about to say something, when she realized an entirely different expression had taken over Weiss’ face. Weiss was flushed red, her jaw was clenched, and she was staring directly at Ruby’s chest.

Ruby felt the cogs turning in her mind. Weiss was staring at her chest, her breasts specifically, which were not covered up because Ruby was in the shower. That took a few seconds to parse in Ruby’s mind. Weiss was staring at her breasts. Ruby was naked. That’s not supposed to happen.

Ruby screamed, pushing Weiss away and yanking the glass door shut again. As soon as she began pulling, however, she cried out again. She’d yanked the door with her injured arm, causing a shock of pain. She stumbled, her back hitting cool tile as she cradled her injury.

The fog permeating Weiss’ mind was split with Ruby’s shriek, and she was immediately against the glass again. “Ruby! Are you alright?”

“Yes!” Ruby hissed through gritted teeth. “I’m okay!”

Weiss peeked around the half-closed glass door. Ruby was pressed against the back of the shower, her face was a mask of pain, and her hand was covering the cut on her arm. A small amount of blood was leaking past her fingers. Weiss rushed to get away from the shower again before she saw more of Ruby. She rifled through the drawers beneath the bathroom sink, and extracted a large adhesive bandage. Her voice was shaky. “I’m getting you a bandage, Ruby.”

Weiss heard her partner grunt in affirmation, set the bandage on the sink, and grabbed a big enough towel to cover her partner. Ruby turned the flow of water off, and Weiss thrust the towel through the gap. She deliberately looked away, she couldn’t trust her eyes to behave if she caught sight of Ruby again. 

A tug announced that Ruby had grabbed the towel, and the sound of wet feet on tile announced that it was most likely okay to look again, which Weiss did. Ruby was, gratefully, covered up by the large white towel. Ruby’s hand was still covering the cut.

“Ruby,” Weiss insisted. “Let me see it.”

Ruby sheepishly looked away and lifted her hand from her arm. The injury was still bleeding, but Weiss could see Ruby’s Aura throwing red sparks around the perimeter of the cut, the most common sign that someone’s Aura was healing them. Weiss gently lifted Ruby’s arm to get a closer look, but found herself marvelling at the soft skin in her hands. She had to keep herself from running her fingers along the length of Ruby’s arm, instead opting to apply the adhesive bandage to the wound. 

They remained in silence for a long time. Weiss didn’t release her hold on Ruby’s arm, and Ruby refused to meet Weiss’ eyes. 

“I’ve never seen your back before, Ruby.” Weiss observed her partner’s face, and felt relieved to find that Ruby didn’t seem angry. “I didn’t know it was that bad.”

Ruby’s brows furrowed, and she looked back at her partner. “Bad? Why would it be bad?”

Weiss regarded her partner with confusion again. “Have you seen them? They’re—” Weiss caught herself. She didn’t want to say _that._

Ruby said it for her, though. “Ugly? Grotesque? Is that what you think, Weiss?”

Weiss tripped over her words. “N-no I didn’t mean it like that!”

Ruby smirked. “Yeah you did, you just didn’t say it.”

Weiss released Ruby’s arm and looked to the floor in shame.

Ruby’s small laugh caused her to look up again. “It’s okay, Weiss. I used to think that, too, but that sucked, so instead, I thought of them like trophies! Clear evidence that I, Ruby Rose, kick ass.”

Weiss looked at her partner in awe.

Ruby pointed to Weiss’ scar. “Isn’t that how you see yours?”

Weiss reached up to feel the mark. It was so small compared to Ruby’s, but it held just as much meaning. It was a reminder of her rebellion, and a reminder of its consequences. Weiss nodded.

Ruby smiled gently and reached forward, drifting a finger carefully along its edge. “Sorry I flipped on ya, Weiss.”

Weiss met Ruby’s eyes. It was back, that tension. 

Ruby could feel it too, and she wanted to do something about it. “Weiss,” Her voice was nearly a whisper. “Do you want to touch them?”

Weiss’ breath hitched. When she’d nearly touched Ruby’s scars, she’d barely been conscious of it. Weiss swallowed, and nodded.

Ruby felt her heartbeat quicken, and she took a deep breath to steady herself. She gave Weiss one last smile before shooing her with her hands. “Wait for me in the dorm.”

Weiss left the bathroom in a daze. She was going to touch Ruby’s scars. Ruby was _letting her_ touch her bare scars. It was… intimate. For partners. Friends. Weiss’ fingers curled against her palms. _Just friends,_ she insisted. She couldn’t bring Ruby into her life in Atlas, they would kill the poor girl, but not before killing Weiss first. That is, unless—

The door to the bathroom swung open, interrupting Weiss’ thought with both its sound, and the reveal of her partner. Ruby was clad only in jeans and a black bra. It was the first time she’d stepped into the main dorm room in anything less but a full outfit, and it was quickly going to Weiss’ head. Ruby was nothing but tight muscle thanks to her incredibly heavy weapon, and Weiss could see the definition of her shoulders, arms, and abdominal muscles clearly. It was almost enough to make Weiss envious.

Ruby gingerly approached her partner. “I’m gonna turn around and you can…” Ruby coughed. “U-unclasp my bra. Then just… y’know.”

Weiss’ mouth grew dry, and she nodded. The air only grew thicker as Ruby approached her partner and turned around. To the heiress, it was surreal. She barely felt her own hands shakily unclasping Ruby’s bra, which Ruby rushed to hold up in the front. Weiss’s hands hovered over her partner’s skin.

“Ruby?” Weiss wanted to tell her everything. She wanted to tell her what she felt, what she was going to do. The words were in her mind, they were in her throat, they were in her mouth.

They wouldn’t come out.

Ruby glanced over her shoulder to see her partner’s expression twisted with confliction. Ruby understood, she’d be scared to touch something like her scars, too. They were intimidating. She draped one arm across her chest, holding up her bra, and reached back with her other hand. She gently took hold of Weiss’ wrist, and pulled it to the flesh of her back.

Weiss flinched. The flesh beneath her fingers was uneven, raised, and she could clearly feel the difference between scar tissue and normal skin. It was haunting, but intoxicating. She laid her other hand on Ruby’s back, and traced the scars with her fingers, with her palms, and with her eyes. 

Ruby hissed lowly as Weiss ran her hands along the sensitive flesh. It didn’t hurt, but it was a strange feeling, like a sensory overload. Weiss’ hands were cool against her skin, and she found herself beginning to relax into the heiress’ touch. It felt _right,_ as most things do with Weiss. Ruby could feel her heart hammering against her chest. Weiss pressed her fingers slightly into the flesh, kneading it gently. Ruby sighed, this must be heaven.

Weiss was panicking, internally. Her hands were shaking, but she couldn’t stop touching Ruby. She was right, the scars were a trophy, a sign that she had lived, and Weiss couldn’t get enough of them. Ruby was _alive,_ breathing, and the scars were just proof. Thanks to these scars, she was with Weiss. Weiss felt a rock sink into her gut, she was going to do something, and there was no way she could stop herself.

Ruby felt something else touch the sensitive skin of her back, something smaller, softer than Weiss’ fingers. Something warm. Did Weiss just—?

She’d done it, and she couldn’t stop herself. Weiss had leaned forward, and pressed a single, feather-light kiss to the largest of Ruby’s scars. Weiss had been nervous, now she was horrified. She’d kissed Ruby, without her permission, on her _scars._ Weiss’ face was still close to Ruby’s back, and she could see exactly where she’d kissed her. 

Weiss wanted to scream, or cry, but she couldn’t. If she did, what would Ruby say? 

“Weiss, did you… _kiss_ my scars?”

Weiss felt her heart jump into her throat. As if it were red-hot steel, Weiss’ hands quickly came away from Ruby’s back. Weiss backed away from her partner, horrified by what she’d done. “Y-you,” Weiss stammered. “You should get your clothes on. “

Weiss refused to look at her partner as she stormed out of the dorm.  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fick mich, this was one of the hardest chapters I've ever written. I'm so sorry it took so long, I had to throw out pages and pages and restart from scratch time and time again with this goddamn thing. I'm just glad it's over with. I also edited one of the earlier chapters to be, y'know, not doodoo garbage. Sorry it's so short.
> 
> Fun fact: The Adam chapter was originally going to be an Ironwood chapter. Don't worry, though, there'll still be an interlude-style Ironwood chapter. For now, though, I'm going to sleep. ttfn from a tired dumbass with a headache. dog bless.


	6. Summers Blooming, Winters Withering

“What’s up with Weiss?” Yang asked her partner. “She’s been acting weird.”

Blake checked Gambol Shroud’s chamber for the twelfth time— a nervous habit. “What do you mean? Sullen is a perfectly normal way for Weiss to act, she tends to have a lot of bad days.”

“Well, yeah, but—”

“Duck.”

“Wha—” A branch smacked into Yang’s forehead. “Hell did that come from?”

Blake shrugged, a small smirk upon her lips.

“As I was saying, she’s usually got Ruby to keep her up, but they’ve been _weird_ lately.”

Blake cocked her head at her partner. “Weird?”

“Have you seen them? They might as well be joined at the hip, most of the time. Lately, though, they’ve been... distant.”

Blake almost checked Gambol Shroud again, but caught herself. “So? Everyone needs space sometimes.”

Yang huffed. “I guess that’s fair, but… I dunno, it’s not right. Ruby hasn’t been herself either.”

Blake hummed, but before she could reply a sound in the bushes to their right made her stop. Yang followed her example and ducked low, ready to pounce at any moment. Blake’s ears swivelled left and right. Her nose tweaked, and she relaxed. Blake chuckled, and waved her hand in dismissal. “Just a rabbit.”

Yang nodded and continued walking on their patrol. “Have you noticed?”

“That Ruby’s been acting different, too?”

Yang nodded.

_“That_ I have noticed. She’s… quiet.”

Yang cocked an eyebrow at her partner.

“Quiet _er.”_

“Right? Maybe there’s something going on between them.”

Blake snorted. “Doubt it.”

Yang flashed Blake an odd glance. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Those two are too oblivious to ever admit they have feelings for each other, they’d need someone to spell it out for them.”

“Who said I was talking about romance?” Yang smirked and nudged her partner. “Been reading too many of those novels, Blakey?”

Blake blushed and looked away.

“Ha!” Yang flipped her hair. “Thought so.”

Blake rolled her eyes. “Whatever. What _did_ you mean, then?”

Yang gave Blake a proud smile. “I _was_ going to say it was something romantic.”

Blake smacked her forehead and groaned. “You’re lucky I like you, Xiao Long.”

Yang blushed. Every time Blake complimented her or said something like that it set her off. Do friends say those kinds of things? Would _Blake_ say those kinds of things to her friends? So confusing… her other relationships had been so simple, why does Blake get her so flustered with every little thing?

“Though, if it wasn’t romantic, I’d say it was probably something to do with Qrow’s lesson. She did send Ruby to the infirmary, after all.”

“What?” Yang threw her hands into the air. “No way! It was just a cut, I broke your nose and we haven't been acting weird! Have we?”

Blake chuckled and laid a hand on Yang’s shoulder. “No, we haven’t. Still, Weiss isn’t me, she might’ve reacted differently to hurting her partner.”

“I’m really sorry about that, by the way.”

Blake chuckled and waved her partner off. “It’s fine.”

Yang smiled at Blake. She had a chance, she realized. Swiftly, she sidled up to Blake and wrapped one of her arms around her partner’s. “Thank goodness we’re not acting weird.”

Blake laughed. “Absolutely nothing weird.”

Yang felt her heart flutter. Dust, she was _swooning._ Oh well, might as well try to push a little more. “What _would_ be weird?”

Blake pensively placed a couple fingers on her chin. “Hmm, that’s a good question. There are a lot of things that would be _weird,_ what do you think?”

Shit. Yang had thought she’d just chuckle and wave that off, not turn it back on her! “W-well,” She stammered. What! Yang Xiao Long does _not_ stammer, dammit! “I’m pretty open-minded, nothing would really weird me out.”

Blake gave her partner a wolfish grin, and leaned within centimeters of Yang’s face. _“Nothing?”_ She purred playfully into Yang’s ear, which quickly grew red.

Yang almost flinched, but she stood her ground. It was now or never, time to double down. She turned to her partner, their noses nearly touching. _“Nothing.”_ She didn’t wink, she held her gaze solely on Blake’s amber eyes. She _needed_ to show her. Yang pulled Blake’s arm closer to her chest.

Blake pulled back, her arm still tucked against her partner, and a blush beginning to rise up her neck as well. She opened her mouth to say something, but a loud ring from her Scroll noted the end of their patrol. It was their turn on the Frontier village’s palisade for the afternoon watch, then they’d swap again with Ruby and Weiss for the evening patrol.

Yang smiled and dropped her arm, instead slipping her hand into Blake’s. Blake stared forward as Yang guided them back into the village by the hand. Yang hadn’t laughed her off, she’d stood her ground, and returned Blake’s little flirt. That wasn’t what usually happened. Usually she’d blush, laugh, and they’d go back to business. It was a routine of sorts.

Yang saw the puzzled look on her partner’s face. “Cat’s outta the bag now, eh?”

Several gears turned in Blake’s head. All the looks, the closeness, the (now that she looked back on it) _blatant_ flirting, how could Blake not see it! It had been obvious! No wonder she responded to all their outing proposals with ‘it’s a date’. Blake would smack herself if she had the mental wherewithal.

Yang _liked_ her. Seriously. Romantically. Like all of her books said.

Like Adam.

Blake froze as a cold weight dropped into her stomach. Yang glanced back when her partner stopped, and an array of emotions crossed her face. Confusion, realization, hurt, then just… nothing.

The last one struck Blake like a punch. “Yang, I don’t know if I…” She trailed off, her limp hand dropping from Yang’s. Not a speck of red flashed in those lilac eyes.

Yang thought that there’d be something inside her, a fire, an ember, a spark, but all she felt was… nothing. Ashes. Her anger gone, suffocated by the emptiness. It felt wrong to feel nothing. Usually she had a scrap of rage to hold on to, but everything was gone. “That’s okay,” Yang felt herself say, her voice a hollow echo. “I understand.”

The sound that reached Blake’s ears was barely recognized as Yang’s voice. It was empty, it was _wrong._ Yang’s lively eyes were dead, now. It was like seeing Yang turn into someone completely different. It was sobering, like a splash of cold water to the face. Yang turned her back on Blake and started walking away.

“Yang! Wait!” Blake yelled.

Yang kept walking.

No. Blake would talk to her. She couldn’t leave her partner like this. With a flick of her wrist, Gambol Shroud launched from her hand. It arced around Yang’s legs and Blake yanked the ribbon, restraining Yang and dragging her towards Blake.

The reaction was immediate. Yang slipped out of the ribbon with practiced ease, sprang up to her feet, and instinctually launched a flurry of punches at her partner. Blake redirected her punches with an open hand, not daring to block one and risk taking a hefty shot to her Aura. Yang caught her in the shoulder, which Blake rolled into. She turned the maneuver into a spin and circled Yang, pinning her arms to her sides with Gambol Shroud’s ribbon. Blake struck out with a kick, knocking Yang off balance. Blake pounced onto Yang, straddling her and making sure her arms stay pinned. 

In six seconds, Blake had blocked, restrained, and pinned Yang Xiao Long. Record time. Such an accomplishment would usually be impressive, but something was wrong.

There was no heat.

Blake looked into her partner’s eyes. Lilac. Not a hint of red. No heat, no fire. She’d acted purely on instinct, not a shred of her usual fighting spirit. Hopefully Blake could reignite it.

“Yang,” Blake hissed. “You should let me speak.”

Yang didn’t respond.

“I haven’t had a great track record with romantic partners, so I don’t know if I can give you what you want.” 

The words bounced around in Yang’s head, but they didn’t sound right. They sounded like someone had told her, with all their conviction, that the sky was green, or that her hair was black. Words, though they didn’t feel like hers, passed quietly past Yang’s lips. “What do you mean?”

“How long? How long have you felt this way about me?” Blake asked. She held her partner’s gaze as she untied Gambol Shroud from her partner’s waist.

There it was. Yang felt it, the ember in the ashes. This time, Yang actually let her words come out. “Since our third mission… When you brought me coffee before we switched.”

Coffee? _That_ is what started it, of all things? Not when they first met, not when she revealed herself to be a Faunus. _Coffee._ Blake felt laughter bubbling up, but she pushed it down. She got up off of her partner, and held a hand out to her. Yang looked at it warily. “I care about you, Yang,” Blake insisted. “We’ll talk on the wall, okay?”

The ember grew, and more began to brighten with it. She accepted Blake’s hand and got up. The walk to the wall was a daze of loud, conflicting thoughts for Yang, she didn’t even notice Ruby and Weiss passing them, with the former giving her a worried look.

“Yang?” Blake said, shaking her shoulder a bit. They were sitting down on small wooden chairs atop Hope village’s tall wooden palisade. “Yang, I’m going to start talking, okay?”

Yang nodded.

Blake sighed, and briefly stalled by checking Gambol Shroud’s chamber— thirteenth time— as she tried to gather her thoughts. “You know the most about me and Adam.”

Yang tried to keep her surprise subdued, but she failed. 

“All my parents know is that we didn’t have a good relationship, and he’s part of the reason I left the White Fang. So, you’re the only one that knows about… everything else.”

Yang nodded slowly.

“I’m not easy, Yang. I’ll freak out at little things, randomly, I’ll ruin moments, I’ll probably cry a lot, I’ll scare you, I’ll lash out. I can’t hurt you, Yang, and I’m afraid I might do that if we’re… together. I _do_ feel for you, Yang, _like that._ I just don’t want you to regret it. Please, consider your own wellbeing before you consider dating me, of all people.” The last part came out like a whisper.

Yang stared at her partner in disbelief. “Is that it?”

Blake glared in response.

Yang held up her hands in apology. She took a few moments before offering her rebuttal, then spoke with a renewed vigor. “I _really_ like you, Blake. You’re worth a _lot_ to me..”

Blake looked at her as if she’d failed the simplest math problem. “Don’t you get it, Yang? I could hurt you.”

Yang shrugged. “And I could hurt you. But really, I think that being hurt is worth it,” She leaned forward and held out a hand. “To be with you.”

Blake stared at her partner’s offered hand.

Yang smiled. “Why not give it a shot?”

Blake gulped. She was scared, and she could tell Yang was scared, too. Her offered hand was shaking, and Blake shuddered at the thought of what Yang had become earlier. What would become of them? What if it went poorly? What if she ruined everything?

In the back of Blake’s mind, a new voice arose. It spoke softly, with confidence. It sounded like Yang. 

_What if it all went well?_

Tentatively, Blake reached her hand out, and laid it gently within Yang’s. 

When Blake looked back up at her partner, she was nearly blinded by her smile. Yang’s elated expression was actually quite similar to her sister’s, and it was something Blake hadn’t seen before. The fire was back in Yang’s eyes, but she couldn’t see the rage looming beneath. Just pure joy. It was infectious. Slowly, a smile crept across her own face.

Yang scooted her chair over so she could be closer to Blake, and laid her head on her shoulder. “So, do you wanna maybe go watch a movie sometime?”

Blake tensed up a little from the contact, especially with it being under a new context, but she found Yang’s warmth to be relaxing. It felt undeniably _right._ “Like a date?”

Yang looked up at her partner. Her smile was beginning to hurt a little, but she couldn’t tame it. “Yeah.”

Blake looked out past the palisade, into the verdant green forest surrounding them. It hadn’t been cleared, and the path leading to the village’s gate was unpaved, but it held promise within the darkness of the trees. Sure, there were Grimm, but there was also potential. “I’m not sure,” Blake said, her voice clearly teasing. “I’m more of a wine and dine gal.”

Yang snorted. “You’re more of a ‘dusty old tome and chill’ gal.”

“Would that be alright?” Blake looked down at her partner, her question only partially made in jest.

Yang rolled her eyes. “Only if you’d read it to me.” 

That struck a chord within Blake. Reading to Yang _did_ have a certain appeal. Maybe later, though. “A movie would be fine.” 

Yang drew little circles on the back of Blake’s hand with a finger. “Which one though?”

Blake tentatively rested her head atop her partner’s. “We can worry about that later.”

* * *

Weiss purposefully walked ahead of her partner, she couldn’t bear to look at her. She could count the words they’d spoken to each other since… _then_ on her hands. She thought about it constantly, the feeling of her partner’s marred skin under her fingers— her fingers, _and_ her lips. She wanted to do it again, she _yearned_ for it, but she knew better than to let her partner risk being with someone like her. 

Not yet, at least. There was an itch within Weiss, she _needed_ to tell Ruby. Ruby had to know how she felt, and what she would do. What was difficult, though, was deciding what order she would do that in. Would she tell Ruby her plan first to solidify her trust, or would she tell Ruby her feelings first to make her feel more obligated to support her? Weiss mulled over the latter, suddenly feeling sickened by the notion of it. Manipulating Ruby into supporting her with her own love, the sheer thought made Weiss want to vomit. It was something her father would do.

Weiss looked into the forest on their right. It was eerily serene— Only a singular birdsong filled the air, which only drew more attention to the fact that everything else was silent. Even in the afternoon, when activity should be peeking, there was nothing. Such is the nature of Grimm-infested forests. Very few things lived there, and even fewer would have the audacity to make much noise. It would be the perfect place to tell a secret that only Grimm would hear. 

The itch within Weiss intensified again. She _needed_ to tell Ruby. If she did, then… No, best not to rush. Even if Ruby doesn’t accept her romantic proposal, then at least she’d be able to help her. Weiss knew her partner would do that much, no matter what.

Weiss slowed her pace, allowing her to fall in step with Ruby. Ruby looked to her in surprise. “Weiss?” She asked, her voice low and tentative as she ducked under a branch.

Weiss inhaled deeply, the clean scent of the forest filling her lungs and refreshing her. The weight on her chest built, and the words inside her begged for release. “Ruby,” She started, her face deadly serious as she looked at her partner. “Give me your Scroll.”

Ruby was taken aback. “Why?”

Weiss was already taking her scroll out of her pocket, and she sent Ruby a pleading glance. She couldn’t say anything yet, the question of Scroll surveillance was one that not many had delved into yet, but she wouldn’t dare risk it. Ruby acquiesced upon seeing her look, but she couldn’t keep the confusion from her expression. 

Weiss took her partner’s Scroll and laid it on the ground. For good measure, she took off her warm, puffy coat and laid it over their Scrolls. She grabbed her partner by the arm, and escorted them both into the forest.

Ruby allowed herself to be dragged, the return of Weiss’ touch making her feel warm. “Weiss, what are you doing?”

Weiss shot a quick look over her shoulder, briefly meeting her partner’s silver gaze. “We need to talk.”

Ruby’s heart leapt into her throat. Weiss had given her the silent treatment ever since she touched her scars, and not knowing how Weiss felt was torture. She hadn’t dared to try and give Weiss a hug, or hold her hand, or any of their usual affections while getting the cold shoulder. Experience had taught her to keep her distance from Weiss when she was being deliberately ignored.

After walking a good distance from the village, just far enough that they could barely see Weiss’ bright white jacket past the treeline, Weiss stopped. She inhaled again, taking a calming breath to ease the severity of what she was about to admit, then turned to her partner. 

Weiss affixed her partner with the most serious expression she could. “Ruby, you know what the Schnees have done, right?”

Ruby nodded. “But that doesn’t matter, because you’re not just a Schnee, you’re Weiss. Your family doesn’t define you.”

Weiss felt the weight on her chest lighten a little. It was flattering, but off-topic. “No, Ruby, I… I know that. That’s not what matters. They… _we_ are horrible, _horrible_ people for what we have done to the Faunus. The Schnee Dust Company is a morally bankrupt business, led by morally bankrupt people.”

Ruby opened her mouth to object, but a gesture from Weiss kept her from continuing.

“I will be one of those people. As heiress of the Schnee Dust Company, Huntress or not, I will have to take up the mantle of CEO to a business built on the bodies of the Faunus. It will make me a monster, no matter what I am now.”

“But won’t you have the power to make things better?”

Weiss smiled wanly at her partner, charmed by her optimism. “If only. A CEO still bends to the will of its directors and shareholders, and the only ones worse than the Schnees are those that direct us. Any improvement on the lives of our Faunus workers would put a dent in our bottom line, and would quickly lead to… undesirable outcomes. It was something my mother tried to do as CEO of the SDC, but she was out-voted, insulted, threatened, and worst of all, pressured to marry my father, who the Board immediately elected as CEO. Then…”

No, she couldn’t talk about her mother. That would get her off track. She _needed_ to say this.

“No, that’s not important, right now. Ruby, I will become a monster. You will _hate_ me.”

Ruby looked appalled by the accusation. “I could never—”

“Ruby, if you wouldn’t hate what I become, I would think less of you.”

Ruby looked like she wanted to respond, but she couldn’t think of anything to say other than, “Why are you telling me these things, Weiss? Are you leaving? Please don’t leave!” Ruby reached forward and gripped her partner’s sleeve.

Weiss flinched a bit, surprised at the passion from her partner. “R-Ruby, I—”

_“Please_ stay here, Weiss, don’t let them change you!” She shouted, clutching her partner’s shirt.

Weiss pushed her partner away a little. “Ruby, I will _not_ leave. I have a plan. Now, please, be quiet. This forest is full of Grimm.”

Ruby bounced in place, her expression of worry slightly masked by one of curiosity. “What’s your plan?”

Weiss looked around nervously. What if there _was_ someone in this forest? What if they’d been followed. Weiss felt her jaw clench. It doesn’t matter. There’s no one here. No time left for stalling. “Ruby, I plan to take… _drastic_ measures to ensure that I do not fulfill my role as heiress to the Schnee Dust Company.”

“Like what?”

“Crime. _Excessive_ amounts of white-collar crime.”

“So… Am I gonna have to tell someone?”

Weiss reeled. “No! Dust, no. Do not tell _anyone._ Not even Yang. The SDC is a den of scum, and I plan to bring it down. I am exacting justice.”

“I dunno, Weiss, that sounds kinda… delusional? Like when a villain does some stuff and says it’s okay because they did it for justice, but it’s really not because they’re still doing bad stuff.”

Weiss smacked her forehead, more than a little offended that her partner would imply she’s a villain. “Ruby, the Schnee Dust Company is safe from any authorities. They have every police officer and private detective paid off. They’re not innocent, there just isn’t anyone with the gall to convict them. Even worse, if someone _does_ convict them, they tend to end up dropping the case it due to… _familial complications.”_

Ruby frowned. “Then who can stop them?”

Weiss felt a little surge of pride, but tamped it down. “I plan on fulfilling that role.”

“Do you… need help? Is that why you’re telling me this?”

That gave Weiss pause. “I… Don’t know.”

Ruby looked around, very clearly confused and perhaps a little irritated. “So…”

“I just needed to tell you.”

“Why?” 

“There’s something I need to tell you, Ruby,” Weiss’ voice shook a little. “But I needed to know that you’d support me _before_ I told you.”

Ruby felt the anticipation building again. 

Weiss sighed. She could tell her, now. Ruby had to know her feelings. “Ruby… about the… _thing…”_

Ruby perked up. Her chest tightened, her heart sped up. “Y-yeah?”

“I…” Weiss was going to tell her. She had to. It would be so freeing, to finally get her feelings off her chest. Weiss’ mind grew panicked. She didn’t know what to say. She had the feelings, but she didn’t know what to say! 

“It was an accident,” Weiss found herself saying, her voice tight and formal. No, _no!_ “I hope it doesn’t change anything between us.” She was speaking, but she could barely feel the words come out, they didn’t feel at all like her own. They felt like something she’d say in Atlas. 

Ruby felt the tightness around her chest loosen, and it kept loosening until she felt like her heart had been replaced by a gaping void. So it was just a wish, a dream. Her thoughts became dull and grey. It was a _mistake._ Weiss didn’t mean _anything_ when she… _kissed her scars._ What a mistake. Ruby felt light on her feet, not with joy, but because she just couldn’t feel anything. “Yeah, okay” Ruby said, her words sounding foreign as they tumbled out of her throat. “That’s fine.”

Ruby barely registered how shocked her partner looked. Weiss’ eyes were wide in surprise and… fear? Weird. She looked like she had more to say, but she didn’t. Instead, Weiss just walked within Ruby’s personal space and wrapped her arms around her partner. She was warm, but distant. Like a campfire, but not being near a campfire. More like looking at a campfire on TV. Fake campfire. Memories. Absently, Ruby returned the hug.

Weiss’ thoughts were in chaos. She’d ruined it. Instead of letting her feelings out, she’d briefly reverted to her worst self and just… pushed them away. Formally. That was the worst part, how she spoke to Ruby like a business partner or a bad suitor. Her hold around Ruby was loose, and it felt more like an obligation than anything else. 

No, she could fix this. She could fix everything, she just had to…

Weiss looked up into her partner’s eyes and saw nothing. What was once gleaming silver looked more like concrete. Ruby still had a smile on her face, but it looked like a doll’s smile, like a smile Weiss would practice in the mirror before entertaining a “friend” that her father had sent her. Weiss wanted to reach up and touch her partner’s face, but she couldn’t. She’d ruined it, she’d ruined everything. Now Ruby would never forgive her for toying with her emotions. Maybe it’d be better if she just shut up before she hurt Ruby again.

They separated, and didn’t take another moment before turning around to get their scrolls back. The walk was completely silent. It hurt.

Ruby walked slowly behind her partner, staring blankly ahead.

Something moved in the corner of her eye, something very dark. It lunged toward Weiss, and Ruby was immediately in motion, her numbness overtaken by her urge to protect her partner. It was a Beowolf that had somehow snuck up on them. In the back of her mind, Ruby acknowledged that she should have noticed the Grimm.

Weiss had only just started turning around when she heard the familiar sound of Crescent Rose unfolding, and she drew Myrtenaster instinctually. Before she could fully turn, though, two halves of dead Beowolf fell at her feet, sliced perfectly across the waist. They faded into dust, and Weiss saw Ruby as she’d never seen her before. Usually when Ruby saved her (which wasn’t exactly uncommon) she looked like an actual savior, like a hero fighting to protect the innocent. Now, though, she looked… withered. Like she was doing a job, and Weiss had only caught the briefest flash of emotion crossing her face, only for it to disappear again. 

Ruby, for the first time in her life, found herself disappointed in the Grimm she’d just killed. If only it would have lasted a little longer, she might have found some kind of emotional reprieve in the combat. She sighed, not bothering to reset Crescent Rose and simply carrying it over her shoulder. 

Before they could begin walking again, they were beset by another Beowolf, many more, actually. Weiss found herself backpedaling towards the palisade as Ruby slashed at the Grimm before her. 

Weiss saw something… odd in how her partner was fighting. Of course, Ruby didn’t move like a dancer with that over-sized gardening tool, but she was far from inelegant. Watching her fight was usually a pleasure, but something was different. Usually, there was some deal of performance, but now it was all raw. Weiss got closer to the treeline when she heard Ruby… _screaming._ It sounded excessively painful, and it was downright terrifying. 

Weiss found herself standing in awe at the edge of the treeline as she watched her partner fight. Roses were flying wildly, surrounding her partner in a flurry of red, and Weiss could only track her by the sound of her screaming, and the dirt kicked up by Crescent Rose. Ruby looked less like she was wielding the giant scythe and more like she was throwing it around and allowing herself to be pulled by its weight. She had no control of her own momentum, she was simply moving as the scythe dictated. Weiss didn’t dare approach.

With a good deal of effort, Weiss tore her gaze away from her partner. She sprinted the rest of the way to her bright white jacket, took out her Scroll, and called Blake. 

Blake answered quickly. “Weiss?”

“North-East side, Beowolves, probably a pack, Ruby’s engaged with them now.” Weiss said in a rush.

“Why aren’t you with her?” Blake asked, the jostling from her sign of the line indicative of her movements.

“Doesn’t matter, just come quick! And sound the alarm!” Weiss quickly ended the call and began sprinting back to the forest. She could hear the cries of Beowolves intermixing with Ruby’s own screaming. _Dust,_ she was still screaming.

Ruby could think of nothing but the fight. There was a raging inferno within her, fueled by the same emotions that had made her feel so dull. She lashed out with Crescent Rose, the scythe pulling her with it as it cleaved through two Beowolves, only for them to be replaced just as quickly by another pair. Ruby could feel her own voice tearing at her throat, but she couldn’t stop herself from screaming. It felt so _liberating._ She felt a spray of Grimm ichor coat her as the scythe ripped through another Beowolf, the substance covering her face and cloak and painting them black. Some of it found its way into her mouth, and it was easily the foulest thing she’d ever tasted, but she didn’t dare take the time to spit it out. She _needed_ to keep fighting. She feared that if she stopped, she wouldn’t be able to start again.

One, three, five, countless Beowolves assailed her, and she cut each of them down. She found herself wielding Crescent Rose with only one hand, not bothering to use her arm in any other way than to hold the scythe, and only moving the weapon by pivoting her body and lunging with her Semblance, launching her and Crescent Rose through at least two Grimm at a time. 

_Why_ did Weiss say that? Did Ruby really mean that little to her? Crescent Rose drove her through another pair of Beowolves. Did all their affections mean nothing? All the times she texted Ruby to confide in her, or to complain about being in Atlas, or to tell her how much she wished she was at Beacon, and none of it was special. Crescent Rose impaled a Beowolf on its point, the momentum carrying Ruby over it and sending her boot-first into another Grimm, which buckled under the force of her kick. No, it wasn’t right. It couldn’t be. If it was right, then “Why did she kiss my damn scar!”

Ruby’s cry echoed across the forest, but it was completely unintelligible. Her words were garbled with rage, all of them stringing together and simply continuing her scream. More fuel to the flame inside Ruby. She felt like she was losing herself, falling into the deepest pit as her mind took less and less control over her body. The world around her became a blur, but she couldn’t tell whether that was due to her Semblance or because she was losing herself. She could barely see the trees in her peripheral, she could only see each Beowolf in front of her, each one that Crescent Rose brought her to. More ichor sprayed across her front as the scythe tore through a trio of Grimm, she was covered head-to-toe, now. It was cold and warm at the same time, and it was thick but also incredibly runny. 

Something bright entered her periphery, and she turned her head to see it dancing around one of the Beowolves that she was hurtling towards. Weiss. It was Weiss. Weiss was in the way. _Weiss was in the way._

Qrow was right. Ruby couldn’t stop the scythe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: My outline says we should be in chapter 3 right now :)


	7. Bloodstained Petals

Weiss noticed just in time. Just like the sparring matches; Rosenwache up, catch the blade, deflect and rotate. Weiss flicked out the main gauche, barely quick enough to catch the massive scythe. 

Rosenwache didn’t last a second.

The blade shattered, white and blue sparks dancing as its Dust infusions became unstable, gleaming silver metal flying through the air. Weiss’ shock hindered her instincts, and she took just a moment longer to lunge out of the way of the scythe, the delayed dodge being her only saving grace. The scythe cut through the air, narrowly missing Weiss’ torso.

Weiss felt strangely empty, as if she had lost some permanent presence in her mind. No, she knew this. Her Aura had shattered. What had shattered her Aura? She’d dodged, right? Ruby _hadn’t_ killed her because she’d dodged. No, she wasn’t dead. Weiss found herself stumbling and falling backwards to the ground, and reached down to stabilize herself. She reached down. _Kept_ reaching. Where’s the ground? Why are things moving so slowly? Weiss looked down. Well, there’s the ground, why isn't— 

Weiss’ forearm was nothing more than a bleeding stump. No, that’s not right. Briefly, Weiss looked to her left arm. Still there, still holding Myrtenaster. Back to her right. Nothing. Blood, ligaments, muscle, bone, dripping onto the forest floor. She tried flexing her hand. Her mind could still feel it there, but there was nothing but blood and muscle and bone and blood and blood. Weiss looked up. Ruby was kneeling in front of her. Her silver eyes had fading flecks of red in them. She was covered in black blood. She wasn’t holding Crescent Rose. She was reaching out to Weiss. Her mouth was moving. No words. Pain. White, hot, roaring, _screaming_ pain. Or was it Weiss that was screaming?

Weiss wailed, a bloodcurdling screech that cut to Ruby’s heart. Cerulean eyes widened as she brought her arm, severed viciously below the elbow, to her chest, the blood staining her white shirt. Ruby, her mind halted from disbelief, reached out before the heiress’ gaze dulled and she fell unconscious. A surge of panic kickstarted Ruby’s heart. The Grimm were still coming. She lifted her partner into her arms, unable to take her eyes off of what she’d done.

“Ruby!” Yang shouted as she burst into the treeline, her blazing fists striking Grimm left and right. “Ruby, what happened! Are you okay?” 

Ruby looked down at her partner. Her arm was leaking blood all over her. Ruby looked left, where Crescent Rose had landed. Its blade was covered in blood. Weiss’ blood. A rich crimson.

Blake was in front of her, asking questions, but Ruby couldn’t hear them past the ringing in her ears. Blake pointed back to the village.Ruby could feel Weiss’ blood was all over her, mingling with the Grimm ichor. She could feel it— warm, _so warm,_ slipping between the threads of her clothes.

Ruby disappeared in a flash of roses. Blake shouted after her, but she kept running. Running. Running. She could feel Weiss’ warm blood on her. Running. She barely noticed when she’d reentered the village, her mind focused on the blood, _Weiss’ blood, all my fault._ All the doors were closed, the town alarm was wailing. Weiss had screamed louder. 

There was a house nearby. The lights were on. Help. Ruby swiftly kicked the door open and shouted into its interior. “Help! _Help her!”_

A head peeked around the stairwell of the house. It was a Faunus, a deer Faunus judging by the large horns that poked out of his grey hair, with small glasses and a long, almost-white beard. He took one look at them, paled, and rushed down the stairs. “Honey!” He called back up the stairs, his voice deep and booming. “Get the first aid kit!”

The large Faunus slowly approached Ruby. He glanced between Ruby and the woman in her arms. “Here,” He reached forwards with his arms. “Give her to me.”

Ruby shook her head, her eyes darting about wildly like a cornered animal. “No! I can’t let her go!”

The Faunus sighed. “Okay, then. Come to the dining room, set her on the table.”

Ruby followed him into the dining room, her eyes firmly glued to her partner. “I’m sorry,” she muttered, “I’m sorry, Weiss, I’m so sorry. _Please forgive me.”_

Weiss couldn’t respond.

Ruby choked out a few sobs as she set her partner on the long, wooden table. Weiss’ shirt and cape were almost completely covered in blood, and her right arm ended in a bloody, mangled stump just below the elbow. It was bleeding _so much._ Ruby wanted to cry. No, wait, she _was_ crying, Ruby watched a couple tears fall and land on Weiss’ cheek. Ruby reached out to wipe it away, but only succeeded in getting blood all over Weiss’ cheek. She sobbed.

Ruby felt herself being pulled away from her partner by the arm. She looked over, intending to shout at the one who would separate her from Weiss, only to meet the gaze of a mother. The deer Faunus’ wife, judging by the silver band on her finger. She was a human, skin a cinnamon-red tone, and crimson hair. Dark brown eyes. Ruby wanted to scream at her, but her expression was… sympathetic, and it froze Ruby’s heart. All the emotions she’d felt, the rage she’d let loose, the energy she’d spent, all of it hit her at once, causing her to almost fall over as the immense fatigue hit her like a truck. The woman held her up and led her to the couch, muttering little comforts as she sat Ruby down.

Ruby felt herself pulled into a warm embrace as the woman sat next to her and gently stroked her hair. From where she sat, Ruby couldn’t see her partner’s unconscious body in the dining room. That was probably for the best. Ruby couldn’t bear to see what she’d done to her partner, but her mind kept showing her images of Crescent Rose flying uncontrolled at Weiss, her attempt at blocking only breaking Rosenwache, and Crescent Rose taking her arm. The sound, the _sound._ Ruby could still hear it. The sound of her partner’s Aura shattering, the sound of Crescent Rose tearing through flesh. Weiss’ scream. She couldn’t stop the scythe. She couldn’t stop herself.

Ruby wailed, burying her face in the woman’s sundress and bawling. The woman kept telling her that she would be okay, that everyone would be okay, but Ruby couldn’t hear her past the memories.

“Honey!” The Faunus called from the dining room.

“Marcellus?” The woman responded. Ruby could feel the vibrations of her voice in her chest.

“Bring the girl over here, I need her.” His voice was grim, sending a cold lance through Ruby. Did she kill her? She killed Weiss, didn’t she? That guy, Marcellus, wanted to bring her in there just to show her what she had done. Maybe she deserved it.

The woman sighed. “She’ll be okay,” She cooed to Ruby. “She just needs your help. Can you help her?” Her voice was so soft, like Ruby’s own mother, it compelled her to nod and agree, although she couldn’t bear the thought of looking at Weiss again. The woman lifted them both off of the couch, and gently guided Ruby to the dining room once more.

Ruby recoiled at the stench of blood, _Weiss’ blood,_ as she reentered the room. Her bloodstained partner was on the table, equally bloody bandages covering her severed arm. 

“Hunter.” Marcellus’ booming voice easily got Ruby’s attention. “Her Aura is killing her; It’s consuming her in order to regenerate itself. We have no Aura infusion equipment. Do you know what this means?”

Ruby absently shook her head, the words barely registering.

He laid a huge, gloved hand on Ruby’s shoulder. It was covered in blood, and left a handprint the color of Weiss’ blood. “You need to give her a manual Aura infusion.”

Ruby paled, but found her voice. “But… that…”

“Yes, it might kill you. It might kill her. It will hurt more than anything you’ve ever experienced, but it’s also your only chance to keep her alive.” His voice was glacial. 

Ruby was shaking, _had she ever stopped shaking?_ She _needed_ to save Weiss, no matter what, and this was the only option with even a chance, _maybe it would make her worthy of forgiveness._ Aura infusions were usually something handled by high-class hospitals, treatments Hunters in critical conditions would take to regenerate their Aura and save them. It had an incredibly high success rate. That was in hospitals, though, in controlled environments with professionals and incredibly expensive equipment. Field infusions were almost unheard of, and while their success rate was higher than 50%, they always had grave consequences. Unfathomable pain, intense scarring, donor fatality. Someone like Jaune could do it easily with his Semblance, but Ruby had no such gift, _but maybe that’s a good thing if she’d feel a fraction of what she inflicted on Weiss._

The most pain she’d ever felt. Possible death. Scarring, certainly. 

Maybe she deserved it.

Ruby nodded and stepped closer to the table upon which her comatose partner lie. The Faunus gave her a grim look and reached out to remove Weiss’ shirt and cape. Her skin was covered in blood. Quickly, Ruby placed her hands on Weiss’ bare side, rushing before she could have any second thoughts. She probed Weiss’ soul with her own Aura, expecting the friendly, familiar presence that she usually felt when performing Aura exercises with her, only to be met with something hungry, ravenous. It lashed out at Ruby’s Aura, almost forcing her out, but she resisted the urge to flinch; what was left of Weiss’ barrier would keep her hungry Aura back.

Ruby felt her own Aura pooling up along her cervical vertebrae, and she willed it to travel down her arms, across her palms, and into her partner. The tendrils of her own Aura, crimson and nimble, pressed into the barrier between herself and Weiss. The flow of Aura stopped there, naturally, but Ruby willed it further. Her Aura pressed into the barrier, exerting intangible force against Weiss’ very soul. The barrier buckled, bending but still resisting. Ruby willed her Aura further. If Weiss were awake, she’d probably be in immense discomfort. Not Ruby, though, not yet.

Like a dam breaking, the barrier around Weiss’ Aura gave way, causing Ruby’s to flood in. Ruby felt her Aura invade her partner, and the moment she entered, it _burned,_ white-hot fire flowing through her veins, inside her body, pooling like lava at the nape of her neck as their Auras mingled. Her skin began to sear in weblike patterns down her arms, across her shoulders, and around her throat. She felt like her entire body was boiling from the inside, and she could feel her Aura attempting to reject Weiss as a vessel, but she forced it in anyways. She grit her teeth and one of her incisors chipped, sending a small chunk of enamel flying. She could feel every inch of her Aura burning within Weiss, and she began to feel weak. Ruby felt uniquely _empty,_ the sheer amount of Aura forced into Weiss leaving what felt like a hole in her soul. She grew weak, her knees shook and she was dripping with sweat. 

Her hands felt like they were on fire, her _soul_ felt like it was on fire, but she could also feel her Aura taking hold within her partner. Wisps of red rose from Weiss’ body, and Marcellus undid the bindings around her arm. The bleeding had spontaneously stopped, and the edges of her damaged flesh glowed as Ruby’s massive influx of Aura set to healing the wound. The scent of burning flesh filled the room, but Ruby couldn’t distinguish her own from her partner's. 

Ruby’s knees buckled, and she would have collapsed had Marcellus not supported her. Nonetheless, she could feel herself fading, the edges of her vision darkening as the mass, sudden exodus of Aura overwhelmed her body, leaving her floating in a sea of darkness.

Strangely, there was a certain relief, as if she was falling into her mother’s embrace. It was warm, comforting, but also… _empty._ Empty of what, she couldn’t tell.

Someone was calling for her, from the darkness. As the voice grew louder, closer, the shadows surrounded her, blocking all sight. She was floating, her body tingling all over, the horrible pain having given way to a pleasant warmth.

Amidst the thick darkness, Ruby saw the face of her mother appear before her. Summer bore a wan smile. 

Her face was as Ruby had never seen it before, as it had been moments before her death. A long, bloody scar vertically crossed her left eye, and the corner of her lip curled around a set of scars that crossed her right cheek and ended at her chin. Across her throat, a deep gash caused blood to run down what Ruby could see of her neck. Her voice was hoarse, and the flesh of her lips split around the scars as she spoke. “Hey, Rubes.”

Ruby had forgotten the sound of her mother’s voice, but it was unmistakably Summer’s. Ruby just knew it, from somewhere in her soul. “M-mom?”

Summer looked upon her daughter with pride, but that pride was clearly mixed with sorrow. “You saved Weiss. You should go back to her, she’ll probably be grateful.”

“Why… why are you here? Where are we?” Ruby looked around, only to be met with darkness on all sides.

“Don’t follow me. Not yet, Ruby.” Summer’s eye, the only one not left mangled and useless, regarded her daughter with fondness and longing.

“Follow… you?” Ruby said slowly, sadly. Her soul, what little was left of it, felt so compelled to do just the opposite of what her mother had ordered. She _wanted_ to follow Summer, she _wanted_ to embrace her mother fully. Why _wouldn’t_ she?

“You’re dead, petal. You forced out too much of your Aura, and it sent you into shock. You died in that Faunus’ arms, he’s performing CPR on you right now.” Her mother said with an uncanny calmness.

Perhaps the words should have scared her, but Ruby felt strangely comforted. Perhaps it was how at peace her soul felt, or the knowledge that she gave her life to save her partner. “I… I don’t want to go back.” She reached out, grasping hands searching for her mother.

Summer’s broken features twisted into a look of pain. “No, Ruby, stay with Weiss. Your team needs you, but she _especially_ needs you. Don’t leave her behind, Ruby, _please,”_ Her rough voice became desperate. “Don’t abandon her like I abandoned you.”

Ruby felt it, ever so briefly, the spark of Weiss’ Aura— blue, familiar, chilly. It felt so small, so far away— _miles_ away— the smallest spark illuminating the darkness around her. It bathed the rest of her mother in a dull blue light. Summer Rose was leaning against a black staff, the head of which sprouted outwards in a bright red rose. Her body looked no better than her face, and her clothing had been completely rent, the few scraps of cloth left doing nothing to cover her torso, which had been completely torn open. Only her left arm remained, the other torn almost to the collar, and her legs were completely covered in deep gashes. Regardless, Ruby still yearned to be within her embrace. “M-mom, I… I can’t see her, I hurt her! I ruined her!” Ruby shouted as she curled in on herself.

Summer slowly approached her daughter, dragging her right leg behind as she used her staff as a cane. She leaned down, pressing her forehead to her daughter’s. Ruby could feel the slick, raised skin of Summer’s scar pressing against her forehead, but it didn’t faze her. “My daughter,” Summer muttered, her voice cracking as she began to cry. “My little petal, Weiss could never hate you, and you certainly haven’t _ruined_ her. Please, _please_ go back. She needs you.”

Ruby sobbed. “But…”

Summer smiled wanly. “I love you _so much,_ Ruby,” Summer pressed a long, wan kiss to her daughter’s forehead. “But they need you more than I do.”

The light grew brighter, pulsing weakly but growing stronger with each second. Ruby could feel her soul being tugged in two directions, now.

“Go, Ruby,” Summer insisted, her voice gravely sad but assured. “Go back to your partner.”

Ruby’s first experience upon regaining consciousness was searing, white hot pain all across her body. She screamed, thrashing about on the floor as if it would help her escape the burning she felt. Marcellus tried to hold her down, but she slipped free from his grip, rolling around on the floor and crying as if it would extinguish the fire in her skin. Before long, she found her throat too rough to keep screaming, leaving her to force out silent, breathy hisses of pain as she tried to still herself. She held her arms out, her sundered clothing revealing the newly scarred flesh. At least a dozen thin, weblike scars criss-crossed all the way up her arms, almost completely covering older scarring. Along the thin, raised ridges, small wisps of crimson Aura licked the air and arced across her skin, trying their damndest to repair that which was beyond superficial.

As the pain died down to an almost bearable degree, Ruby’s short, panicked breaths grew longer and more purposeful. She slowly sat up, trying her hardest to ignore the pain that flared up her arms and across her shoulder blades.

“Woah, girl!” Marcellus called, reaching out towards Ruby. “Don’t move too much, you’re going to be fine.”

Ruby groaned, the pain within her subsiding as her Aura slowly regenerated itself. She opened her mouth to speak, but her words faltered as they ground against her hoarse throat. Marcellus seemed to understand, though.

“She’s still unconscious, but you’ll both need some serious medical treatment if you ever want to fully recover. Sharla!” He shouted. “Bring us some water! Food, too!”

Ruby didn’t look, but he heard shuffling from another room, and the woman who had comforted her before, Sharla, returned with a glass of water and a plate of buns. Ruby reached out to accept them, but Sharla shook her head, instead bringing the glass to Ruby’s lips herself. She tipped the glass slowly, and Ruby greedily drank, the cold water marginally soothing her throat. Marcellus gave his wife a grateful smile as she fed Ruby, who eagerly wolfed down each bun given to her, regardless of how numb she felt inside.

After taking a few minutes to let the pain die down a little more, Ruby finally gathered the strength to speak. “How long?” She rasped.

Marcellus looked at the watch on his wrist. “No more than six minutes, I think.”

“Just six…” Ruby trailed off. She’d spoken to Summer for six minutes. Or, at least, that’s what she remembered, the memory of her mother was quickly fading. The staff, her eye, _please go back,_ tears… it was all blending together in her mind, leaving her only with a deep wanting. “I was _dead.”_ She murmured.

Marcellus sighed and nodded. “Yes, you were—”

Ruby jolted upwards, crying out as her body flared up in pain. The alarm. It was still ringing. Yang and Blake needed her. She needed to _go,_ both to get away from Weiss, and to help her team. Marcellus’s hands darted out, grabbing her shoulders and holding her still. “No! Let me go!” Ruby cried. “There are still Grimm!”

Marcellus gave her a cold, hard glare that rooted her in her place. “No! You will stay here, Grimm or not! If you go out there, you’ll only weigh them down!”

Ruby tried to challenge his glare, but she felt something strange about Marcellus, something _incredibly_ strong when he touched her. She could feel his Aura. It was bright and golden, towering above her own in its magnitude and splendour. It was stronger than any Beacon student she’d ever met, and it was even stronger than Tai’s. Ruby felt herself back down instinctually from the superior power.

“Sharla,” Marcellus looked at his wife with grim intent. “Bring me Regis Irama.”

Sharla sent him a shocked look. “Are you serious?”

Marcellus stood, drawing himself up to his full height. Ruby felt dwarfed by his presence, now, as if the caring husband and father had been replaced by something stronger, like a soldier or a general. “Quickly, Sharla.”

She gave him one last worried look, then rushed out of the room.

Marcellus’ gaze fell on Ruby again, and only then did she realize that his eyes were a bright gold. “You will _stay here.”_

Ruby wanted to object, but found herself unable to even move her lips. Without her own intent, she found herself nodding. 

“You are a student of Beacon, yes?” 

Ruby nodded again.

A small, confident grin appeared on his lips. “Good. I was, too.”

Before Ruby could find her voice again, Sharla reappeared in the room carrying what looked like a giant, golden ram. Although she wasn’t particularly muscular, she bore the weapon without great difficulty. Sharla handed it to him slowly, and he hefted it with practiced ease, regarding Regis Irama with great care and longing, like seeing a long-lost friend again. 

Ruby watched Marcellus transform again as he took hold of Regis Irama. Not a soldier, not a general, a Hunter. Ruby recognized him, now. She’d seen him or his likeness in comics, TV shows, movies, documentaries, and in textbooks, but none of them lived up to his majesty. Even dressed as a frontiersman with a simple shirt, vest, and slacks, he looked truly like the moniker he’d been gifted after his team’s third Vytal Festival Tournament victory in a row: Imperator.

Marcellus Aurelian, leader of AURM and its last surviving member, spoke with an air of authority that Ruby had never heard before. “It has been a long time.” His voice sent ripples across Ruby’s Aura. “Don’t worry, girl, I will not allow these _beasts_ to trample upon my home. Sharla, I will be right back. Please keep her here.”

The Imperator’s thunderous yet graceful steps compelled Ruby to watch him closely as he exited the house, as though missing a moment of his presence would be a dire mistake. Even in his more advanced age, his stride still carried a dominant, intimidating presence. He pushed the door open, sent a caring glance to his wife, and left, the door drifting closed behind him. 

Ruby could feel his presence lifting from her mind as he distanced himself from the house, like a haze being dispelled from her vision. Her first clear thought was of her partner, and she staggered as she attempted to tap into her Semblance, her need to check on Weiss suddenly more powerful with the knowledge that she _saved her._ Sharla caught her, and Ruby could feel now how she had carried Regis Irama with such ease. Her arms wrapped around Ruby like a steel vice, her muscles like corded metal as they locked the girl into place. “Lemme go!” Ruby cried. “I need to see her!”

Sharla’s grip did not loosen. “I felt that. You tried to use your Semblance, didn’t you?” The motherly tone was distant, now, replaced with a much more commanding voice, similar to her husband’s. “Don’t try it. We will move _slowly_ and _carefully_ to your partner.”

Ruby didn’t try to resist further as Sharla draped Ruby’s arm across her shoulders, supporting her. The two rose slowly, and returned to the dining table upon which Weiss Schnee lie. Ruby could see, now, her own Aura flowing quickly from the nub of Weiss’ arm. It didn’t look fully healed, more like a burn now than a cut, but at least it wasn’t bleeding. 

A wave of shame washed over Ruby. This was all _her_ fault. She _should_ have been able to control herself. Just one lapse in control and she’d nearly killed her partner. Why hadn’t Qrow ever taught her _that?_ She forced herself to reach out with a single hand, pushing down the fear and guilt in favor of meeting Weiss’ body with her hand. She pushed her Aura out again, gently probing her partner’s soul. Weiss’ Aura was tentative, cautious, and it met hers slowly. Ruby prepared to pull back, afraid that her partner would reject her Aura, but it didn’t. It met her at the barrier to Weiss’ soul and gently nudged against Ruby’s. It carried regret, sorrow, pain. 

Where was the anger? The disappointment? Ruby pulled back, separating herself from her partner’s being. Weiss, of course, had no reaction. She just laid there and, in a way, Ruby was glad. Sure, her soul may not have harbored anger, but that didn’t mean Weiss’ conscious self would be so amicable. Ruby had no doubt that she’d scramble away in fear, recoil from every touch, undo all the progress they had made as partners.

Ruby tried to turn around, the sight of her partner making her sick to her stomach, and Sharla guided her back to the couch, setting her down slowly as the motherliness she’d shown earlier returned. The alarm still droned outside, but it wasn’t enough to keep the exhaustion at bay. Sharla’s gentle words coaxed Ruby into a fitful sleep, one plagued with images of what she’d done, memories of her mother, and worry for the future.

* * *

Yang could feel something coming. Even with all of her focus on the fight at hand, the presence approaching _demanded_ her attention. Shining, golden, splendorous, it heralded its own approach loudly. Yang dared glance at Blake, only to find that she was staring directly towards it, regardless of the Grimm just feet away from her. “Blake!” Yang cried as she lurched towards her partner.

Yang tackled her partner, sending them both to the ground and just safe of three pairs of claws. Unfortunately, the safety was only momentary, as Yang found herself under the gaping, drooling maw of an Ursa, its teeth gnashing as it came bearing down on the two.

A perfect, glorious column of gold thunderously crashed into the beast, easily crushing its feeble skull. The column continued flying as if it had never encountered any obstacle, shattering any Grimm that would dare step in its path. Neither Yang nor Blake could see it land, but they could certainly feel it. It rocked the ground, the cries of Beowolves ringing out as it crushed them.

“Blake, are you alright?” Yang asked.

Blake shook her head, clearing her confusion. “Yeah, yeah I’m fine.” Blake squirmed. “Could you, uh, get off?”

“Oh yeah, sorry.” Yang tried to lift herself off her partner, but something deep inside her compelled her to _stay down._ She pushed as hard as she could, but she couldn’t make herself move. She grunted then shuffled around a bit, looking at least for a more comfortable spot atop her partner. “Sorry but, uh… I kinda can’t.”

Blake frowned then moved to get up herself, only to find that something towering, intimidating, and bright gold was pushing against her Aura, keeping her down. No matter how much her muscles strained, her body wouldn’t move. “Yang, what is that?”

Yang searched in the direction from which the column of gold had flown. Marching towards them in long, confident strides was a huge deer Faunus dressed in a standard frontiersman’s outfit, rippling muscles bulging against his rolled-up sleeves. Yang could feel his Aura radiating in beautiful, golden waves. For a few moments, the sea of Grimm parted around him, only surging towards him once he took hold of the great golden column that Yang had seen earlier.

Yang had seen no weapon quite as glorious, nor any Hunter quite as graceful when wielding something so massive. His feet remained firmly on the ground, only moving in order to pivot and strike any that would dare approach him from behind. Yang watched in awe as an Ursa batted away the Beowolves in its path to attack him, only to be broken when the Faunus brought the column— no, _ram,_ Yang could see a pair of handles, only one of which he was using— around in an uppercut, shattering the beast’s jaw and sending it into the air.

The death of the Ursa caused a short lull in the fighting, one which the Faunus used to his advantage. The front of the ram opened, revealing a hollow tube no more than 3 inches in diameter. This time, he gripped both handles of the ram as 3 mortars flew from the weapon, each one blasting holes in the black sea of Grimm. As the horde stumbled from the shock, the Faunus went on the offensive, surging outwards into the horde, his golden ram clearing out several Grimm at a time as he carved swathes through the horde, sending lesser Grimm scrambling back into the forest. 

“Yang, what the hell is going on!” Blake shouted as she squirmed again, trying to see past the body of her partner.

Yang just watched, transfixed by the Faunus’ graceful and thunderous movements. Something about him seemed oddly familiar, but she couldn’t quite place it, no matter how hard she squinted.

With a roar he grabbed the face of a lunging Alpha, golden light overflowing from his hand as the beast cried out in pain, its wretched screech causing the nearby Grimm to recoil. He brought the ram around again, driving it into the Alpha’s gut and sending it skyward. As their Alpha crumbled to dust, the remaining Beowolves barked out their grating cries and scattered, gradually leaving the forest bereft of Beowolves. The Ursas, however, remained.

Without the horde of Beowolves in the way, they were able to reach the Faunus much more quickly. They swarmed him, their huge bodies completely blocking Yang’s sight. Still, though, she could feel the immense, golden Aura in all its majesty. At last, the weight on her Aura lifted, and she was able to push herself off her partner.

Without a second thought, she threw herself at the dogpile of Ursas, blazing fists catching them from behind and making them buckle. She fought with a renewed vigor, drawing the attention of the Ursas surrounding the Faunus with her immense heat. Blake fought close at her side, defending her partner’s flanks and tripping the remaining Grimm, giving Yang a better chance at killing them.

Yang caught the Faunus’ gaze, and he sent an appraising look her way, his golden eyes shining brightly. The temptation to tap into her rage subsided as she felt another surge in her Aura. She brimmed with confidence she’d never felt before, and her punches felt more sure than they had ever been. 

The Ursas’ numbers thinned quickly with their combined efforts, and although Yang and Blake found themselves panting and exhausted again, the Faunus before them looked as confident as ever, his only sign of effort being the few drops of sweat on his brow. He inhaled deeply, and Yang noticed an immediate change when he exhaled. The surge of power and confidence within her faded immediately, as did the incredible golden presence the Faunus had arrived with. Yang met his eyes as he propped himself up against his immaculate ram, and they no longer shone with splendour. 

Blake opened her mouth to speak, but the Faunus beat them to it. “Your teammates are in my home at the village, and they are relatively okay. Follow me, I will take you to them.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to get this one out quickly so I wouldn't leave y'all hangin off that cliff for too long. Chapters like this one are especially difficult because I don't have a beta reader at the moment. Don't worry, I will not be pushing many OCs in the future, Marcellus and Abraham will probably be the only two in this volume (but don't count on that, because I have driven myself so fucking far off the outline that I might just have to make a whole ass new one, or at least tweak the current one a lot). Also changed the rating to M just to cover my bases.


	8. Brazen Bull

It felt good to be in Menagerie again, regardless of the reason of his arrival. Adam relished the tropical scent, the presence of his Faunus brothers and sisters, and the lack of Ozpin’s domineering Huntsmen. The bustle of Kuo Kuana’s plaza was quite pleasant, too, and it was refreshing to see the smiling faces of Faunus families as they perused the open-air market. 

It’s a shame he came for such grim business. It was no secret that Adam was, to the people of Menagerie, usually a herald of chaos and death, as are most other ambassadors from Vale. Adam was no different, save for the fact that this time, he would be an arbiter rather than a herald. Abraham wanted someone dead, and Adam was typically the best for such jobs. Of course, everyone would know that he did it, but no one in Menagerie would dare speak out about it.  _ No one  _ would interfere in the White Fang’s plans. After all, why would they want to ruin their own best shot at real freedom?

The man to die— a  _ man,  _ not a Faunus— would be Larun Marital, Vacuan ambassador residing comfortably within the Vacuan embassy in the heart of Kuo Kuana. Cinder and Abraham had both agreed that such an egregious assasination— especially if they could pin it on another human— would stoke the flames of conflict between Vale and Vacuo. That was why Adam was under disguise; black wig hiding what was left of his horns, which he had filed down as much as he could without inflicting great pain, a forest-green cape with a grey shirt and black slacks, colors most would associate with Vale, and a hefty amount of makeup used to conceal most of the brand, or at least enough to make it look closer to a regular scar. He’d also been given color contacts that covered his striking blue eyes with a tamer, pale pink shade. Andre had laughed at that. Asshole.

The makeup wasn’t something Adam was completely unaccustomed to, he’d had to use it for a similar mission once before, but it still felt strange. What felt worse were the clothes, the long sleeves and thick material making him sweat buckets in warm, tropical Menagerie. The worst part, though, was the weapon at his side. Of course, he understood why the red  chokutō  would be too obvious a connection to him, but he certainly wasn’t happy with the replacement. Rather than Wilt and Blush at his side, he bore a simple longsword on his left hip, and a pistol on his right. The sword had been purchased from a Fang-sympathetic weaponsmith, who agreed to making the transaction completely off-the-books. The pistol came from a similar source, and the ammunition had been hand-loaded in the White Fang headquarters, scrubbed of any and all prints and identifiers, then carefully loaded into the gun’s only magazine. Textbook requirements for any clean assasination.

The plan was simple. The protection at the embassy was rather lax since the Vacuans were highly tolerant to the Faunus, making their relations very friendly. Just flash his Scroll— forged, obviously— then walk right to the ambassador’s office. 

“Excuse me! Sir!” The embassy guard shouted, one hand raised. His equipment was quite meager, really, just a single pistol holstered at his right hip and a standard chestplate, probably imported from Atlas.

Adam plastered a polite smile on his face and raised his hands in acquiescence. 

The guard approached cautiously, one hand hovering over his holster. “Appointment?”

Adam nodded and slowly reached into his pocket, pulling out his Scroll and holding it out between two gloved fingers for the guard to take.

“Huntsman? We don’t see too many of you around here.” He eyed Adam suspiciously. “What’s your business?”

Adam shrugged. “Representative from Vale, need to talk with Marital.”

The guard took the Scroll and scanned over it briefly before handing it back to Adam. He had barely even looked over it, Adam could tell. “What about?”

Adam had to force his lips to not turn into a snarl. “Is it any of your business?”

The guard glared. “Fine. Your weapons?” He motioned to Adam’s sheathed sword.

Adam puffed out his chest, a proud smirk on his face. “We are inseparable. You have no legal right to take a Hunter’s weapon.”

The guard’s anger was evident on his blushing face. 

“I could probably protect the ambassador better than you could, anyway.” Adam smugly remarked as he walked past the guard, snatching the Scroll out of his hand as he passed. The guard turned to shout at him, but just decided to drop it.

Adam couldn’t keep the disgust from his face as he walked into the embassy, though. It  _ reeked  _ of humans, their fancy colognes and perfumes burning his sensitive nostrils. The building’s interior was just as grossly lavish as he’d expected, the marble walls and tiled floors completely different from Menagerie’s more humble architecture. So arrogant. If only he’d been sent to burn the gaudy building. Maybe if he caused enough trouble he’d be able to excuse it… No, Khan would be up his ass. 

Dust, even the ambassador’s office door was horrible. Mahogany wood, certainly imported from Vale, carved with designs of Vacuo’s desert landscapes and Vacuan soldiers’ triumph over Grimm. Even the handle, clearly made of real silver, had swirling floral designs common to royal Vacuan families. Adam sneered and knocked three times on the door.

It didn’t take long for the ambassador to answer. Adam could hear him babbling from the other side of the door as he unlocked and pulled it open. Larun Marital was built surprisingly well for a pencil-pusher, and a silver flanged mace rested at his hip. An ex-Hunter. Maybe it wouldn’t be so easy.

Larun could tell immediately what Adam was there for. His hazel eyes darted between Adam’s, then to the weapons at his hip. Larun’s hand slowly drifted to his own weapon, and Adam merely stood still as he drew the mace. It was finely crafted, and Adam could see that Larun held it with confident familiarity. Worrisome. 

Adam barged into the door before Larun could close it, knocking them both into the office and onto the floor. “You bastards,” Larun grunted. “I knew Ozpin was up to something.”

Good, he really believed he was from Vale. Adam swiftly jumped off of Larun, his leg swinging backwards to shut the office door, which he promptly locked. 

Larun was up more quickly than Adam had expected, his thunderous footsteps filling the room as he charged across the carpeted floor. Adam drew his longsword in a rush to block the incoming mace, only barely managing to keep the weapon from hitting him. He couldn’t stop Larun’s other hand, though, which quickly snaked around to Adam’s side, gripping his right arm. As soon as he touched it, the arm went completely numb and fell limply to Adam’s side. Not good.

Adam panicked internally. No one had told him that Larun was a Huntsman, or that he had such a Semblance. Adam shot a foot out, catching the ambassador in the knee and giving him some distance before swinging the sword in a wide, low arc, catching Larun on the thigh and making him drop to one knee. Adam tried to exploit the moment, but Larun was too quick, bringing the mace up just in time to bat the sword away. The ambassador then lurched forward, headbutting Adam in the gut, and while his Aura blocked pretty much all the force of the strike, it still knocked him back a good enough distance for the ambassador to stand again. 

Larun charged with fire in his eyes, but Adam already had his sword up. He blocked swing after swing, his Semblance absorbing the force and feeding it into the longsword. When the sword began glowing, Adam ducked under Larun’s next strike, bringing the sword up under his arm. 

Adam struck true, the blade smashing into Larun’s Aura and sending him across the office. The ambassador crashed into his desk, reducing it to splinters. Adam felt his arm regaining feeling again, and gripped the longsword in both hands.

“You little shit.” Larun hissed as he pushed himself up. 

Adam just stared, his sword held defensively in front of him.

Larun grunted and charged again, silver mace high above his head. Desperate, childish. Adam backed one foot up, lowering his stance and bringing himself just out of reach of Larun’s overhead strike. He lunged forward as soon as the attack whiffed, the tip of his sword on a perfect collision course with Larun’s throat. 

Unfortunately, Larun had outplayed him. Adam collapsed as he felt a hand on his leg, one he had missed in his focus on countering the ambassador. The leg grew numb as Larun drained the feeling from it, sending Adam crashing to the floor as he collapsed, his longsword only minorly scoring Larun’s shoulder instead of piercing his throat. 

Adam struggled to get up as Larun imposingly drew up to his full height, a small amount of blood staining his pale yellow shirt at the shoulder. “You thought I couldn’t see what Ozpin was doing?” He hissed, bringing his mace up for a final swing. “Quietly recalling his Hunters, increased trade with Atlas, expanding protection for the Frontiers! I am not an idiot! I’ve seen war!”

Adam frowned. No one in the White Fang knew about any of this, or at least no one had told him. Ozpin was usually so secretive, how could a simple ambassador have figured all this out? No matter. He had to die. Perhaps Abraham would be more appreciative when he learned that Adam had such knowledge.

Larun brought the mace down, only to stagger as Adam pumped every round in his pistol into the ambassador’s chest. To his credit, his Aura held out for quite a while, withstanding at least ten shots, but that was only half of Adam’s magazine. The rest went clean through his torso, blasting small holes into the white wall behind him. He dropped the mace in disbelief, clutching his perforated chest as he fell to his knees. “Fuck…” He hissed, a stream of blood falling from his lips before he collapsed face-first onto the carpet.

Adam dropped the pistol onto his chest as he relaxed, his head dropping back onto the carpet. If Larun hadn’t started babbling, he might have been able to get him. Adam slowly pushed himself up with his sword, using it as a cane as his leg began to regain feeling. There was a pounding at the door, the guards had doubtless heard the gunshots, if not the fighting itself. The door shook in its frame as the shouting guards tried to force it open. Adam’s eyes darted around, looking for some kind of escape. One door, the one he’d entered, one window. That would have to do. Adam inhaled deeply, slowly holstered the pistol, and crashed shoulder-first through the window.

The hard ground gave him a firm greeting, and he grunted as he landed in the dirt. He was still within the fenced area of the embassy, and he could hear the front gate guards running across the lawn towards him. He scrambled up quickly, blindly swinging his sword in a wide arc. Someone cried out as the blade found purchase, and Adam used the opportunity to flee. He  _ could  _ stick around and slaughter the guards, but every second he wasted here was a second that the Menagerie police would not waste.

He sprinted across the embassy’s lawn and leapt over the wrought-iron fence, the guards shouting after him as they flooded out of the embassy. He sprinted through the streets, finding his way into the plaza again. He’d lose them in the crowd.

The Faunus gave him a few weary looks as he barged into the crowd, but none of them called out when they caught his scent. They wouldn’t dare snitch on Adam Taurus. 

The thickness of the crowd was enough to keep the guards at bay while Adam slinked between the bodies with ease. It wasn’t long before he found himself at the docks, where six airships were loading their cargo.

All of them carried nondescript crates, but there was one Adam was looking for in particular. He sprinted to the left, briefly meeting the eyes of a yak Faunus loading crates marked with red circles. The two shared a brief look, reaching a quick understanding. He and Adam rushed to load the few remaining crates into the ship before rushing in.

Adam crouched between a pair of crates as he watched the cargo doors shut, the sight of the rushing guards still stuck in the crowd bringing a smile to his face. The ship shook soon after, alerting Adam of its ascent. There were a few distinct  _ pings  _ as bullets bounced off the hull of the ship, a few holes appearing in the walls and causing sunlight to leak into the hold, but the escape otherwise went off without a hitch. Adam sighed.

Adam tugged off the wig, grunting as it yanked on his hair, then gently removed the color contacts. After doing his best to wipe the makeup off with his sleeve, he fished his Scroll out of his back pocket and made a call to Abraham.

“Sharise?” Abraham’s voice rasped over the line.

Adam almost grunted. They definitely did this part just to fuck with him. He swallowed, raising his larynx as he tried his best to speak in a higher, softer tone of voice. “We had a wonderful dinner, he even fronted the bill.”

Abraham grunted in affirmation. “Will you be home late?”

Adam rolled his eyes, his foot tapping impatiently on the floor of the ship. “No, he got me a taxi.”

“Good.” Was all Abraham said before dropping the call.

Adam simply dropped the Scroll, allowing it to clatter against the metal floor. He tugged off his cape, disrobing and leaving the clothes on the floor of the ship. The momentary chill of being mostly naked within the cold airship was rather uncomfortable, and Adam began quickly wrenching the tops off the crates, searching for the one they’d stashed his clothes and weapons in.

At first, Adam didn’t quite parse the contents of the first crate. After all, who would expect to find explosives in a box that their shirt was supposed to be in? 

Adam dropped the lid back on the crate, rushing to lift up the next one. More explosives. Fuck.

Bright blue eyes darted around, trying to find an exit, only to be met with grey walls on all sides— except for the captain’s cabin. He rushed to the steel door, rapidly turning its round valve-like handle and wrenching it open, only to find the captain standing in the doorway, the barrel of his revolver levelled squarely with Adam’s forehead.

Adam ducked low as he sent a palm up, the bullet barely whizzing past his head as he struck at the captain’s hand, sending the gun flying free of his grip. The captain tried to headbutt him, but Adam quickly ducked around, switching their positions as he kicked the yak Faunus into the hold. With the few seconds he had left, Adam shut the metal door and braced himself against it.

The door flew off its hinges immediately as the explosion cooked its steel plating to well over 300 degrees centigrade, causing Adam’s mostly naked body to erupt in immediate third and fourth-degree burns where he made contact with the door. Even as the pain sent him into shock, though, his muscles stiffened, firmly locking his grip to the door and sending them both through the glass windshield of the cockpit and through the air. Adam could barely recognize that he was flying, the blinding pain mixing with the encroaching unconsciousness, but he could just barely recognize the sea stretching out in all directions, as far as he could see.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, a voice calmly told him that he would die here. If not the explosion, the impact with the water would almost certainly break him, and he would drown shortly after that. Perhaps he should have stayed in the hold, where his death would likely be more swift. He wanted to scream, shout Abraham’s name to the heavens with his last dying breath in the hopes that some vengeful god would hear, but the wind rushing by him robbed his lungs of air. No last words. 

As the burns killed the nerves along his arms, chest, and legs, he found the pain disappearing, only to be replaced by some small serenity as he crashed through the sky, careening towards his death. Alone in the empty water, naked, skin likely fused to a steel door, and a dead ambassador behind him. What a shitty way to go.

For only the briefest moment, he felt the frigid water against his back, then pure darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long, this is actually the third variant on what I wanted chapter 8 to be. Don't worry, chapter 9 is mostly finished so there will not be as much of a delay. And yeah, an Adam chapter. I like doing these little interludes, it's good to spice it up and give a glimpse to what the hell is going on outside of team RWBY. One of the variants on this chapter was an Ironwood chapter, but I'm still pocketing that one. Also contemplating an Ozpin interlude, a Qrow interlude, or maybe a Cinder interlude. Again, sorry for the lateness and feel free to tell me if you think I should refrain from A/Ns.


	9. What's Left?

In a way, it was kind of funny. There weren’t even any ceiling tiles to count, just one smooth, white expanse of ceiling occasionally interrupted by a light fixture. Instead, Weiss just kept track of how many times Ruby mumbled in her sleep. Six, now, but nothing discernable, just half-words and little noises. She was resting her head on her arms, which were on the edge of Weiss’ bed, occasionally fidgeting and scrunching her eyes up. Weiss wanted to do something— stroke her hair, preferably— to calm her down, but Ruby was on her right side. The side where her arm— what was left of it— was most certainly unable to reach her partner. 

She’d probably been watching Ruby sleep for at least an hour, now, just wishing that she could get a little closer. Alas, she was stuck in a surprisingly comfortable hospital bed in Beacon Academy’s Medical Wing, tied down by the various tubes inserted into her left arm. 

Weiss held up her right arm, observing it carefully for the umpteenth time. Just one or two inches below her elbow remained a scarred stump. Surprisingly, it didn’t hurt that much. There was a bit of a persistent itch, but not very much pain. What did hurt, though, was where her arm used to be. It would come occasionally in bursts— dull, throbbing pain and the distinct feeling that her arm was still there. It wasn’t that painful per se, at least it wasn’t as painful as when she’d lost the arm. That was what she assumed, at least, the memories were… fuzzy. Silver eyes, flecked with red, widened in fear and regret, Crescent Rose coming down, Rosenwache breaking, blood, so much blood. The memories flashed in her mind like images from a projector, as if she was watching them from a perspective outside of her own.

“Muh… ommm— doh...waa… youuu…” Ruby mumbled between breaths. Seven.

Weiss could tell that one hurt. Ruby’s face was twisted in pain, and her lip was trembling. “Ruby,” Weiss whispered. “It’s okay, we’re okay.” She wanted so badly to reach out and take Ruby’s hand, but… Dust, she had even tried it, her arm fruitlessly lifting and falling. 

Ruby’s expression softened, only by a little.

“I’m so sorry, Ruby,” Weiss whispered to her sleeping partner. “This is all my fault. I… I don’t know why I said what I said, Ruby, it wasn’t me. It was just someone I used to be, and they hurt you.” She leaned as far forward as she could without tugging on the tubes in her arm. “I won’t hurt you again, Ruby. I’ll tell you how I really feel when you wake up, okay?”

Weiss watched as Ruby inhaled, exhaled, her expression softening with every breath. 

She didn’t know when she’d ended up in the Medical Wing, Ruby hadn’t been at her bedside when Weiss had first awoken in a bleary haze, but Weiss had heard the heartbeat monitor in the room next to her on the other side of the grey sheet walls. At some point she’d fallen asleep again, and when she woke up Ruby was sleeping at her bedside. Weiss had just been watching her ever since.

Looking at Ruby made her chest ache. Weiss could see dozens of thin, interconnected scars in various weblike patterns on her arms and at the back of her neck. They were strangely... serene— in a sort of eerie sense. Weiss couldn’t begin to imagine how she’d gotten them. All that she remembered was losing her arm, then waking up in the hospital bed. Come to think of it, there was a strange… bump in her memories. There were no images, but she could remember a torrent of emotions at some point, just nothing to associate them to. It felt strange, too, familiar but certainly not her own. Someone else’s emotions. Weiss shook her head, thinking about it gave her a headache.

Quiet, well-spaced footsteps pierced the near-complete silence. Weiss instinctively tensed. 

The grey sheet around her flew open, revealing a tall Faunus woman in forest-green scrubs. She looked up from the clipboard in her hands, and the feline ears atop her head perked up. She rushed forward and set her clipboard at the foot of the bed while pressing a button on the bed frame. “Miss Schnee!” Her voice was surprisingly low-pitched as her eyes darted between Weiss and the vitals monitor next to the bed. “Are you feeling okay? Is there anything you need?”

Weiss glanced over at Ruby, who began to stir. “Please keep it down, I don’t want to wake up my partner.” She said, her voice a little rough. “I would like some water, though.”

The Faunus— Martha, her silver name tag read— nodded and quickly left to fulfill her request. It didn’t take long for her to return, but she had two people accompanying her when she did, one of which Weiss was acutely familiar with.

Winter briskly walked to Weiss’ side, forgoing any formalities, and hugged her. Her hold was tight, tight enough Weiss was suffocating. “Sister, please,” Weiss choked out, her remaining hand patting Winter on the back. “I don’t want to survive mutilation only to die of strangulation.”

Winter didn’t comply immediately, of course. She held her sister for a few moments longer before gently letting go and standing up once more, leaving Weiss surprised to find herself missing the contact. After a slight bow, Winter spoke. “My apologies, Weiss.” She looked over her shoulder, addressing the duty doctor who had arrived with her. “You should speak first.”

The doctor nodded. “Miss Schnee, I’d like to start by saying that yours and your partner’s Aura infusions went perfectly, but there will be moderate complications caused by Miss Rose’s own manual Aura infusion.” He said with thinly-veiled annoyance. “Mind you, such complications are entirely situational, so there is no way for me to tell you what long and short-term effects will occur as a result.”

“Sorry,” Weiss’ head tilted, her voice incredulous. “Did you say that Ruby gave me a manual Aura infusion?”

The doctor nodded gravely. “She risked her life to save you.”

Weiss felt a weight drop into her gut, but she couldn’t trust her voice to say anything. Instead, she just nodded.

The doctor looked down at his clipboard. “Like I said, neither of you should experience any permanent damage to your Aura’s capacity, but there will most likely be side effects due to what Miss Rose did. Now, you should know that there are many one-armed Hunters who still perform well within or above the average for most Hunters, and there is no shame—”

Winter interrupted him. “Don’t worry, Doctor Molonne, the Schnee Dust Company can handle her rehabilitation.” She turned to her younger sister, her voice stony and professional. “Your replacement will be ready very soon.”

The doctor whirled on her. “Excuse me?”

Winter turned to him, and Weiss could see the hidden smirk. “The Schnee Dust Company is one of the largest contributors to the bionics research and development industry. They will be tripping over each other for the chance to develop an arm for Weiss Schnee.” She turned to her sister. “Do not worry, sister, you will only get the best. I will make sure of it.”

Weiss really didn’t know how to respond. She lost her arm, Ruby risked her life to save her, apparently something was going to happen as a side effect of that, she still needed to figure out how to tell Ruby her feelings, her sister was there, and she would be getting a new arm. Too many things, it was all too much. What was she going to tell Ruby? What was Ruby going to tell her? What were they going to tell Ozpin? Should she tell Winter how she felt about Ruby? Should she tell her that she was going to try to burn the SDC? Too much, too much! Something cold was gripping at her chest, she wanted nothing more than to be alone. Or did she want Ruby to stay? Ruby… 

Ruby wasn’t asleep anymore, Weiss realized. She’d been able to snap herself out of her thoughts when she noticed the familiar shift in Ruby’s breathing, signifying that she was just pretending to be asleep, something she was prone to do when Weiss was on watch during missions so that she could listen to her sing. That wasn’t all, though, she felt something telling her that Ruby was awake, that she was listening. She felt her worries slide away, just a little, as she focused on her partner. 

The doctor and Winter were still looking at her expectantly, and she realized that she must have been silent for several seconds. “Yes,” She intoned with a sigh. “A new arm would be acceptable. Please, though, allow me to pick the design.”

Winter nodded, her gaze as understanding and comforting as it could be. “Of course, sister.”

The doctor still seemed a little shocked, but he continued nonetheless. “In that case… Well, I’m sure that we can figure something out once you have your new arm. Until then, just be careful not to aggravate your scar tissue and watch very closely for anything happening with you and your partner’s Auras.” He looked back down at his clipboard again, giving it a final check before nodding. “That should be just about it. Nurse Martha is gonna look you over one more time, then you’ll be free to go.” He stayed there for a few more moments, just in case anyone had questions. When none were raised, he dipped his head politely and left, and the nurse moved towards the bed after he was gone.

Winter watched with a threatening glare as the nurse slowly approached the heiress and carefully prodded at various parts of her body. 

“Are you in any pain?” Martha asked as she prodded Weiss’ hip.

For some reason, she could feel it on her arm— where her arm used to be. A small pressure somewhere on her forearm, tingling like pins and needles. She looked down at the scarred nub. “No, but… I can feel something on my arm?”

The nurse hummed and nodded. “That is phantom limb pain. You will most likely be experiencing it until you get your new arm, and you may experience it after. This is completely normal and can be managed. If it’s particularly severe, there is also medication available for treatment.”

Weiss rolled her right shoulder, the lesser weight feeling very strange. It didn’t do much to make the pins and needles go away, but it seemed to be fading on its own. “What do I need to do?”

The nurse stopped prodding at her and began gently removing the tubes still in Weiss’ left arm. “You can find management tips and therapists online, but you’ll need to consult your physician if you need medication.”

Weiss nodded. It could certainly be worse. With Weiss’ left arm free of any encumbrances, the nurse gave the heiress a final once-over before leaving. Only the trio of Weiss, Ruby, and Winter remained in the small space, enclosed on all sides by a thick gray curtain.

The moment she left, Winter’s shoulders sagged. She looked wearily at her sister, her voice much warmer than it had been when there were others in the room. “Weiss, what happened?”

Weiss could barely hear Ruby’s breathing hitch. Still awake. “Please, Winter,” She pleaded. “I don’t want to talk about it right now.”

Winter sighed. “Must you be so reticent?”

“I just… I made a series of mistakes, and I jumped in the way of danger like a fool.” Weiss murmured, her gaze firmly set on her lap.

“Surely there’s more to it than that.”

“Winter, please, just… later.”

Winter let silence hang in the room for a few painstaking moments. “I’m sorry, Weiss.”

“Don’t be,” Weiss insisted. “It’s my own fault, mostly.”

“Please be more careful, then. I nearly had a fit when I heard that you’d been injured. I care about you, sister.” 

She still couldn’t say it. Weiss couldn’t blame her, father had been much less lenient when it came to hammering the L-word out of Winter’s vocabulary. He was spiteful like that. “I love you too, Winter.”

Winter gave her a small smile— the most she could give anyone, really. “I’m sure there will be at least a dozen designs ready in a couple of days, I’ll send you the ten that I think will best serve your needs. Is that acceptable?”

Weiss nodded. “That is perfectly fine, Winter. Thank you.”

Winter leaned down and gave her sister a final hug before leaving her alone with Ruby. Weiss listened to the staccato clacks of her heels fade as she left the Medical Wing. 

Weiss sighed, taking a couple moments to gather herself before speaking to her partner. She wouldn’t mess it up this time. She couldn’t. “I know you’re awake, Ruby.”

Ruby tensed up, not bothering to keep up the facade as she sat up. She straightened her back, her face scrunching up in discomfort as her spine popped a few times. Weiss didn’t exactly expect Ruby to smile at her, but what she got was even worse. Ruby didn’t even meet her eyes, she just stood up and… walked away. Not a word.

“Ruby, wait!” Weiss called.

Ruby halted just as she was about to leave. She turned in Weiss’ direction, her eyes glued firmly to the foot of Weiss’ bed. “Do you need anything?”

Dust, Weiss wanted to vomit. Ruby wasn’t supposed to sound like that, ever. “I need to talk to you.”

Ruby finally met her eyes, the once-gleaming silver now a dull gunmetal grey. Weiss shivered. She could feel something within her, something foreign, writhing with despair. “What’s there to say, Weiss?” Ruby’s defeated tone was sickening. “I… I hurt you, and it was all my fault.”

The words struck Weiss like a lance to the heart, causing her to choke back her response.

Ruby’s eyes flashed with… something— some strange cocktail of fatigue, regret, pain, and a hundred other feelings that Weiss couldn’t decipher, but could feel somewhere within herself, like something inside of her mirroring her partner’s emotions. She turned her back to Weiss again, an action which caused the foreign feeling within Weiss to twist in pain. “I’ll get Blake, she’ll help you back to the dorm. I’m sure you’re better off without my help, you know what that’ll get you.”

As Ruby moved to step out of the room, Weiss lurched out of her bed. She stumbled, her legs wobbling and almost giving out the moment her feet touched the floor, but she still strained her muscles to get her to her partner as quickly as possible. “Ruby, please! Please listen to me!” She cried, grasping her partner’s cloak.

Ruby didn’t turn, but she did stop. A crushing, cold silence dominated the small room for a few moments before Weiss spoke.

“Ruby, I hurt you.” Weiss whispered.

Ruby whirled around on Weiss, a hundred objections on her lips, but Weiss spoke before she could let them out.

“I lied, Ruby! I lied to you.” Weiss shuffled a little closer to her partner, stumbling as her wobbly legs momentarily gave out. Ruby, on instinct, caught her under her arms. “I didn’t mean what I said, I just… I hadn’t gotten my own feelings in order and I did what came first.”

Ruby looked down at her partner, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Lying… comes first to you?”

Weiss felt a pang of shame. “For matters of…” Weiss’ mouth went dry. “Courtship, yes.”

Ruby remained silent, but Weiss could see the torrent of emotions behind her eyes, and something within her was thrashing.

“I didn’t mean what I said, Ruby, I just… I don’t know what I should say.” Weiss murmured, a combination of fear and unease rolling in her chest. “Please, Ruby, just give me time.” She begged, her hand trembling.

For a long time, Ruby was silent, but she had finally met Weiss’ eyes. Weiss could almost see emotional warzone in her mind, and she could certainly feel that presence within her boiling. Ruby’s voice shook like a leaf. “I took your arm, Weiss.”

Weiss glanced down at her own halved arm. “It’s just an arm, Ruby.”

Ruby looked at Weiss as if she’d just snatched a fly into her mouth. “It’s an arm! You can only do half the stuff! Isn’t it going to mess with your reputation or something?”

“Ruby, the Schnees are subject to enough attacks to not stigmatize prosthetics anymore. It’s just the reality of our situation. Half of my father’s ribs are artificial, his left leg is bionic, and he uses state-of-the-art hearing aids to eliminate his tinnitus.” Weiss said, her voice soft but straightforward. 

“But...” Ruby trailed off, realizing that there was no point arguing with Weiss about something she knew so little about. One thing did keep her talking, though. “Your dad has tinnitus?” 

The tone of curiosity slowly returning to Ruby’s voice felt like a moment of relief amidst a maelstrom. Weiss sighed, relaxed with her partner’s question. “A bomb detonated under his desk, we still have no idea who could’ve gotten it there. It took part of his leg and damaged his hearing, but the weight and build of the desk kept him from being shredded outright.”

“Jeez…” Ruby murmured.

Weiss felt it, the foreign presence within her was much more relaxed now. “Ruby, would you help me back to the dorm?”

Ruby seemed to briefly consider it, and Weiss could feel her weigh the options in her mind. It didn’t take long, though, before Ruby nodded her head. “I’m sorry for…” She trailed off as she draped Weiss’ left arm across her shoulders for support.

Weiss tried to wave her concerns off, momentarily forgetting that she only had one hand. “It’s fine, Ruby.”

Ruby slowly walked her partner out of the room and into the halls of the Medical Wing. “It’s really not, Weiss. I lost control, really badly. When you said those things, I just… I kinda freaked out! It was like I wasn’t even in control of myself.” 

Weiss could hear and feel her partner’s fear. She could remember it, too. Silver eyes flecked with red. Weiss shuddered. 

Ruby’s expression darkened with shame as she felt her partner’s reaction. “Yeah,” She whispered. “I’ll talk with Qrow about it.”

The mere mention of that drunken rapscallion made Weiss sneer as the two walked in a rather awkward silence, Weiss’ proximity to her partner making it difficult for her to ignore her feelings. She wouldn’t dare speak about it, though, not yet. She didn’t have her words in order, she’d surely fail if she let them out now. Even now, with the underlying tension between them, Weiss still felt that warmth from Ruby, the coziness of being with her partner. The feeling was reflected by that foreign sensation inside of her, and she was beginning to suspect what it was. “Ruby?”

Ruby looked down at her partner. “Yeah?”

“What happened to your arms?”

Ruby stopped suddenly in the middle of the hall, causing Weiss to almost fall over.

Weiss sensed the intense unease from her partner being reflected by the presence inside her. “We can talk about it later, if you prefer.” She conceded.

Ruby just nodded and kept walking, the feeling of intense discomfort hardly eased.

They arrived at the dorm to see… something. It had only been for a split second, but Weiss could see that Yang had been sitting patiently at the foot of Blake’s bed, and Blake was reading. Aloud. Of course, Yang jumped off the bed the moment Ruby and Weiss crossed the threshold, but both of them could tell that something was going on.

Before either could comment, the two jolted and Yang jumped from the bed. “Weiss!” She said, her voice a little too loud to not have been up to something. “Are you okay?”

Weiss decided to shelve it for now. “Yes, I’m quite alright. It’s Ruby who you should be worried about, she gave me a manual Aura infusion.” 

Yang looked at Ruby with incredulity. “You what?” 

Ruby groaned. “It’s not that big a deal!”

Blake decided to pipe up. “You could have died, Ruby.”

Weiss felt that presence in her recoil. “Well, I did it to save Weiss!” Ruby cried, attempting to deflect the severity of the situation. “You would’ve done the same!”

Yang scoffed. “To save Weiss?”

Blake shot her a glare and smacked her arm. Weiss felt like she should be offended but, really, it was nice to be around them again. Yang’s humor was just what she needed. “I’m fine.” Weiss insisted. “I’ll be getting a replacement very soon.”

Yang’s eyes bulged. “Like a robot arm?” She stage-whispered.

Weiss sighed. “Yes, Yang, a bionic arm.”

Yang’s eyes widened in awe. “That is so cool! I wish I could have a robot arm!”

Blake smacked her again. “Yang, quit it.”

Weiss looked over at her partner, and she could see the horrified look in her eyes. She could feel it, too. That once-foreign presence within her was roiling with despair, and Weiss could quite clearly tell what it was. Doubtless, when Ruby forced her Aura into Weiss’, there must’ve been some lasting exchange, some Ruby-shaped imprint on Weiss’ Aura that reflected Ruby’s. It didn’t hurt, at least. 

Ruby tugged Weiss along before her sister could make her feel worse, dragging the heiress towards the bathroom. “Here, Weiss,” That dull tone had returned to her voice. “Take a shower, then we’ll go talk to Ozpin. I’ll wait out here if you need me, okay?’

Ruby opened the door to the restroom and ferried Weiss in before she could actually consent. As soon as they got to the foot of the tub, Ruby sighed. “I’m going to let you go, now,” She said, gently removing the heiress’ arm from her shoulders. “Will you be able to do it yourself?”

Weiss nodded. Truthfully, she didn’t know, but she really didn’t want to be in a shower-situation with Ruby again. Her heart fluttered just thinking about it.

Ruby gave her a strange look before stepping away from her. “Alright, I’ll be right outside.”

Weiss nodded, comforted by her partner’s care. “I can do it.” She insisted, more to herself than to Ruby.

Ruby nodded and turned, leaving Weiss alone in the bathroom. She tugged the gown’s tie loose, shrugging it to the floor and leaving her naked in the cold bathroom. She briefly looked in the mirror, only to be entranced by the odd sight. In almost every aspect, she looked much better than she had in her first year. She’d gained a few pounds, so her ribs were no longer as disturbingly visible. She’d clearly firmed up, too, a few lines of definition showing off her improvements. 

The arm was incredibly strange, though. There was no getting around it. Every time she tried to look somewhere else, her eyes just ended up drifting to the scarred stump on her right side. She shivered, something which she could’ve sworn she felt in her right arm. 

Weiss made sure to keep the water relatively tepid, so as not to shock the scar tissue. As she allowed herself to be soaked, she closed her eyes and focused on the presence within her— Ruby’s presence. It hadn’t faded with their slightly increased distance, and Weiss just knew that Ruby was, in fact, standing right outside that bathroom door, tensed and ready in case she needed her. Her Aura was… afraid? Weiss could feel her partner’s fear, but she couldn’t tell what she was afraid of. With a sigh, she focused her Aura into prodding Ruby’s mark within her.

As soon as the two touched, there was a bump against the wall of the bathroom. Ruby had jolted in surprise, Weiss knew. “Weiss?” Ruby called, her voice muffled through the door. “Are, uh, are you okay?”

Weiss pulled back, satisfied with the results of her little experiment. When she opened her eyes, she gasped. A single rose petal had appeared, resting gently on the showerhead before fading. The faint, faint smell of roses hung in the air. “Y-yeah, Ruby, I’m okay!” She responded, her voice feeling distant as she stared at where the petal had been.

“Okay… I just thought I felt…” Ruby’s already-low voice trailed off into a whisper. Dust, how could Weiss hear her across the threshold? “You.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the wait, more chatting with Big Q and Big O soon


	10. The Minute Hand Turns

Muffled shouts could be heard across the threshold. 

“They’re kids, Oz! They’re not ready!” Gruff, brazen tones. Qrow.

“They are perfectly ready for what is to come, and if they are not, they will have to be.” Softer, more intoned. Ozpin.

A growl. “You’re  _ wrong!  _ You can’t do this!”

“I understand your trepidation, but I promise that my students will be ready.”

“You  _ can’t  _ understand! That is my fucking  _ niece!” _

_ “Qrow!”  _ Short, clear, sharp as a whip. Goodwitch.

“No, Glynda, he is right. I cannot understand. That doesn’t mean I can stop, though. We  _ need  _ them, Qrow.”

“Not yet, we don’t. We have time.”

“You know we don’t.”

Silence, so heavy and thick that Ruby and Weiss could almost feel it seeping through the gap in the door. 

Quick, heavy footsteps were the only sign that the door was about to fling open, and Ruby pulled her ear away, scrambling back quickly before Qrow shoved the door open, causing the heavy wood to crash against the wall. He was clearly  _ fuming _ .

“Uh, hi uncle Qrow.” Ruby muttered quickly, a little scared from seeing one of Qrow’s rare moments of anger.

He seemed a little shocked to see her, but his anger quickly gave way to relief as he saw that Ruby was okay. “Hey, Rubes.”

“Uncle Qrow, I need to talk to you.”

Qrow gave an almost-smile to his niece. “What’s up, kiddo?”

“It’s about…” Ruby glanced over at her partner, and Qrow watched the torrent of negative emotions crossing her face as she looked at Weiss’ right arm. “The mission.”

Qrow took a much less subtle look at Weiss. Her right arm was covered by the long sleeve of her dress shirt, but he could see that the sleeve only dangled loosely around her elbow. No hand was visible. Weiss Schnee had lost her arm. Qrow felt a cold shock of dread run through his system. How the hell? She had  _ Ruby Rose  _ with her, and she was one of the best ranking defensive fighters in Beacon! He looked over at Ruby again, who looked like she was about to start flogging herself.  _ Dust, she must think it was her fault.  _

Qrow kneeled in front of his niece, his eyes full of sympathy. “Ruby, it’s not—”

Ruby shook her head furiously. “No, you don’t get it!”

Qrow recoiled. When was the last time Ruby had shouted at him? At  _ anyone?  _

“It…” Ruby trailed off. “We need to talk to Ozpin first. Stay here, please?”

Every one of Qrow’s internal alarms was going off. Ruby was  _ not  _ supposed to look like that. Weiss was missing an arm, something which she doesn’t seem to be  _ too  _ worried about. Ruby looked like she was about to cry whenever she looked at Weiss. “Yeah, uh, okay. I’ll wait here.” Was all he could say.

Ruby nodded and pushed open the door to Ozpin’s office, Weiss following closely behind her and watching her back with concern.

Headmaster Ozpin’s office was as immaculate as ever. Not a speck of dust corrupted the glass floor, there was not a hint of litter anywhere in the room, regardless of the fact that there was clearly no bin in the room. Ozpin sat at the center, chin resting on the bridge of his fingers, Goodwitch standing behind him, studious eyes glancing between her tablet and the pair that just entered.

Ruby’s boots thunked against the glass floor as she walked to the pair of seats in front of Ozpin’s desk, but the sound of her footsteps was greatly overpowered by the sound of Weiss’ heels clacking behind her, a loud reminder that her partner was following her, even after she’d sliced off her arm. Ruby cringed internally, careful to not show such a reaction to Ozpin. She  _ really  _ didn’t want his advice, right now.

“Miss Rose, Miss Schnee.” Ozpin said, his voice quiet but so resonant. Ruby and Weiss bowed in response, then sat across from him. “Your mission?”

“It was… successful.” Ruby said, quick to remember Weiss’ lessons on  _ speaking tactfully.  _ “Hope Village is safe.”

Ozpin nodded. “Casualties?”

Ruby’s jaw clenched. “One.”

Ozpin looked over to Weiss, who nodded. “I see. And I assume you’ll be getting a replacement soon?”

Weiss nodded. 

Qrow closed his eyes and sighed. “That is a relief. Did anything else happen?”

“We met the leader of AURM.” Ruby mentioned, almost offhandedly.

That was the first time Ruby and Weiss had  _ ever  _ seen Ozpin give any kind of shocked reaction. It was minimal, but the way his eyes widened showed a kind of emotion few had every seen from the headmaster. “You saw Marcellus Aurelian?”

Ruby nodded. “Yeah, he helped stabilize Weiss and repel the Grimm.”

Ozpin leaned back in his chair, hiding his expression behind his steaming mug. Goodwitch shot him a look, one which he did not reciprocate. “That is…  _ interesting.”  _

The ever-present  _ ticking  _ of the room itself filled the looming silence after Ozpin spoke. Ruby waited for a long while before speaking, giving Ozpin ample time to ask another question. “Are we good?” 

Glynda glared at her for her informal language, but it seemed to be just what Ozpin needed, as his quiet chuckle eased his features. “Yes, Miss Rose, we are  _ good _ . As always, you have one day’s break before you must return to your classes. Starting now. Dismissed, have a good day.”

Weiss and Ruby nodded before rising and taking their leave, leaving Ozpin and Goodwitch behind in the clockwork office. Ozpin didn’t even turn to his assistant, instead just speaking into the room after the door shut behind the two. “He didn’t answer.”

“No,” Goodwitch said. “He didn’t.”

Ozpin sighed. “Perhaps that is a blessing.”

Glynda hummed. “Do you want more cocoa?”

Ozpin smiled at Goodwitch, handing her his now-empty mug. “Yes, thank you Glynda.”

* * *

Waiting outside of Qrow’s office was  _ painstaking.  _ She could  _ feel  _ Ruby’s emotions thrashing chaotically as she spoke to her uncle, but the most Weiss could pick out was the occasional loud, muffled word. Weiss wanted to press her ear to the door, or to burst in and comfort her partner, but Ruby had  _ asked  _ for privacy, and Weiss  _ really  _ didn’t want to betray her trust, especially now.

She kept trying to comfort Ruby by embracing the link in their Auras, but Ruby’s would recoil every time she probed it with her Aura, leaving her very much in the dark as to what Ruby was feeling specifically.

There was a muffled cry, and what Weiss could vaguely recognize as sobs. This time, when she prodded Ruby’s Aura, it didn’t have the energy to react. The moment they made contact, Weiss was inundated with Ruby’s shame, regret, and sadness. Weiss focused on embracing her partner’s Aura, and that same jolt and warmth came back again, this time slightly duller. Weiss felt another rose petal land on her lap, but it crumbled into dust the moment she touched it.

Ruby’s emotions would rise and crest, then there would be a long moment of silence. These were the moments Weiss expected to see a red-faced, tear-stained Ruby throw open the door and sprint away, a trail of petals in her wake. Fortunately, that never happened. These must’ve been the moments where Qrow started talking, but Weiss couldn’t hear any hint of the grizzled Hunter. 

When Ruby came out of Qrow’s office, she looked exhausted. _.  _ Her eyes had dark rings, she was slumped forward, her face was flushed red, and her lips were pressed into a thin line. She looked to Weiss with a small,  _ small  _ smile, and motioned to the door. “Qrow said he wanted to talk with you, too.”

Dust, Weiss wanted to hug the poor girl, but she looked too fragile, like the smallest touch would break her. “Will you stay?” Weiss asked as she rose from her seat.

Ruby nodded, walked past Weiss, and practically fell into the chair she’d been sitting in. She looked half-asleep, and her hair was all over the place. She must’ve been pulling it. 

Qrow’s office was surprisingly tidy. Weiss still turned her nose up at it— mostly because Qrow was in there— but it was more of an unconscious action. When she realized she was being snooty, she blushed and dropped into the plush chair across from him.

“So, Weiss,” Qrow started, his red eyes boring into Weiss. “What’re your intentions with my niece?”

Weiss had been ready for  _ any other  _ kind of question, and she found herself sputtering as she tried to respond with the haymaker Qrow had immediately thrown her way. “I-I don’t— You’re not going to ask  _ anything else?”  _

Qrow shrugged. “You seem fine, honestly. Or at least like you  _ will  _ be fine. Arm notwithstanding. Not like you can’t afford a new one, and I’ve seen Winter come back from worse.”

“W-well,” Weiss was blushing, red blooms crawling up her pale neck. “I… um…” 

What  _ were  _ Weiss’ intentions? She’d all but said she had those feelings for Ruby. Qrow was rolling his hand forwards, prompting a faster answer.

“I’m not sure?” Weiss answered, drawing a small frown from the Hunter across from her.

“Figure it out soon. You’re hurting Ruby.” Qrow stated.

Weiss felt like the wind had been knocked out of her. She was waiting precisely because she  _ didn’t  _ want to hurt Ruby! But Ruby was hurting either way…  _ Dust,  _ she’d been a terrible partner. “I… don’t know what to tell her.”

Qrow leaned back in his chair, his eyes softening as he heard the heiress’ shamed tone. “Then tell  _ me.”  _

Weiss flinched, her lips immediately quirking in disgust. “I can’t tell you  _ that!”  _

Qrow rolled his eyes. “Don’t be dramatic. I know Ruby better than you do, so lay it on me.”

Weiss had no retort, but Qrow’s tone was starting to irritate her. She could see why him and Winter clashed so often.

“Or you could just keep fumbling around with your feelings and hurt her again.” Qrow urged, his eyes darkening as he levelled another glare at Weiss. “I’m sure Yang and I would be  _ ecstatic  _ to see Ruby crying because of you.”

Dust, did he have to be so blunt? Every word felt targeted to bring Weiss the maximum amount of shame possible. It made her feel, as Yang would have eloquently put it,  _ like shit.  _ “I…”

“Spit it out, Schnee.”

Weiss  _ desperately  _ wanted to smack him. “Ruby is…  _ very important  _ to me.” She said tactfully.

“Oh, Grimm take me,” Qrow muttered. “Weiss, cut the Schnee legalese bullshit. What does she  _ mean  _ to you. What would you  _ do  _ for her.”

Weiss felt her mouth go dry. “She is… more than my partner? I would… um… jump off a… bridge? For her? Something like that?”

Qrow released a furious sigh as he smacked his own forehead. “Holy shit, Weiss. Jacques really messed with you guys, didn’t he?”

Weiss winced. Could her inability to express her feelings really be blamed on the years of emotional and psychological abuse? Now that she thought about it, the answer would probably be a resounding yes.

“Okay, just name  _ one  _ thing you want to do with Ruby. Anything. Well— nevermind. One thing."

Weiss was able to answer that pretty quickly, there was actually a list of things she wanted to do with Ruby. Was it weird to keep lists like that? No, it couldn’t be, it was necessary to staying organized with someone as chaotic as Ruby. “I want to embroider her cloak.”

Qrow nodded, a hint of a smile hiding just behind his lips. “Good, good. That’s nice. Now,  _ why  _ do you want to do that?”

Weiss took a solid few moments to think. Justifying her actions wasn’t really something she did often, mostly because it detracted from the time available to commit to those actions. “She said she wanted me to do it, so I’ll do it.” Weiss said, growing a little more confident.

Qrow leaned forward again and rested his chin on his closed fist. “Is there any combat advantage to embroidering her cloak?”

Weiss shook her head. “No, of course there isn’t.”

Qrow  _ almost  _ smirked. “So you’re doing it to make her happy?”

Weiss nodded. “Of course I am, it’s  _ Ruby.”  _

The smirk couldn’t be hidden anymore. “What would you do to make her happy?”

Why was he asking such stupid questions? Who  _ wouldn’t  _ try to make Ruby happy?. “Most things.”

Qrow nodded, his expression one of clear satisfaction, not entirely unlike the face Ruby makes when she outplays Weiss in Remnant. Damn that girl and her ridiculous topdecking. “And what’s in it for you if Ruby’s happy?”

“Well—” Weiss paused. “I… It makes me… I like it?”

“Seeing Ruby happy makes you happy?”

Weiss nodded.

Qrow hummed. “And you like being around Ruby?”

“Of course I do.” Weiss said matter-of-factly. “She’s my partner.”

“And that’s the only reason you like being around her?”

“No, of course not, she’s... “ Weiss gulped. “She’s my friend.”

“Do you want to be around her?”

Weiss nodded. “Yes, I find our time together to be enjoyable.”

“Wow,” Qrow dryly remarked. “You sound truly heartfelt.”

Weiss only glared at him in response.

Qrow waved it away, the withering effects of a Schnee stare having long lost their potency due to his extended exposure to Winter. “Don’t be such a hardass, Schnee. So, you  _ find your time together to be enjoyable,”  _ He said, using a mocking tone and air-quotes. “What about it is enjoyable?”

Weiss had to think harder about that, she wasn’t used to the hermeneutic analysis that Qrow was putting her up to. “She...makes me feel— no, she  _ doesn’t  _ make me feel like a Schnee.”

Qrow quirked an eyebrow. “Whaddya mean?”

Weiss’ eyes fell into her lap. “She makes me feel like I’m not in Atlas, being drilled on my posture and my mannerisms, like I don’t have to be perfect around her, she likes it when I slip up and sometimes…”

Qrow was almost across his desk as he tried to listen to the heiress, her words fading into silence. “What was that, Weiss?”

Weiss felt the blush pulsing in her face again. “Sometimes I… I slip up on purpose… just to make her happy.”

Qrow dropped back into his seat. “Damn, princess. That’s pretty sappy.”

Weiss’ full blush belied her glare. “Shut up, I’m not sappy.”

Qrow waited in smug silence for the heiress’ embarrassment to fade.

“How are you getting all this out of me?” Weiss asked.

Qrow shrugged. “Despite my current state, I was actually the most emotionally stable outta STRQ. For some reason, they kept coming to me for help, and usually that was just me drawing their emotional roots out so they could understand their own feelings.”

Weiss didn’t really have a follow-up, so she just sat in silence until Qrow spoke up again.

“Look, Weiss, Ruby’s touchy right now, but that doesn’t mean you should distance yourself from her. She needs you now more than ever. Take her to get ice cream or something.” Qrow’s expression had lost all semblance of smugness, and Weiss found herself genuinely taking his words to heart. She nodded.

“And don’t hurt her,” Qrow added, his voice sullen but…  _ harrowing. _ “For my sake, really. Harbinger doesn’t need any more blood on it.”

Weiss shivered. He may be a drunkard and a heathen, but he could certainly be intimidating. Come to think of it, when was the last time she had seen his ever-present flask?

Qrow was motioning to the door. “You can go, Weiss. Go talk to Ruby.”

Weiss nodded, but turned around the moment she got to the door, suddenly remembering something. “There was something else about Ruby,” Weiss said, but then shook her head. “Nevermind, surely she told you.”

“Tell me anyways.” Qrow insisted before Weiss could open the door.

“Well, when she was… uncontrolled, she had some kind of  _ change.  _ Her eyes—”

Qrow’s expression suddenly became dire. “What about her eyes?”

Weiss flinched.  _ Dust,  _ he could be scary. “They had small red spots in them, kind of like Yan—”

Qrow had stood up so fast that his chair was thrown out from under him, flying back and landing against the wall with a crash. He marched up to Weiss, something terrifying in his eyes. “They  _ what.” _

Weiss found herself shrinking before the Hunter. “T-they became red. Not fully but there were flecks of red.”

_ “Fuck!”  _ Qrow shouted, whirling around and pushing a hand through his hair. Weiss felt the sudden jolt of fear across her Aura’s link to Ruby, and she could tell that the was up against Qrow’s office door. Qrow’s voice came out suddenly, and rushed. “Fuck, I gotta call Tai. Go on, kid, take Ruby somewhere. And…  _ fuck,  _ nevermind. Just go. Sorry for yelling.” He was already on his Scroll, his other hand shooing the heiress away.

Weiss gulped and nodded, then tentatively exited the office. Upon feeling the door close behind her, she let out a sigh of relief.

Ruby was sitting across from her in one of the waiting chairs, but Weiss caught the briefest glimpse of a rose petal on the ground just before it could fade away. She’d most likely zipped away from the door to make herself look as inconspicuous as possible. “What happened?” She asked.

Weiss slowly walked up to her partner. “I don’t know, Qrow just… had a fit when I told him about your eyes. Did you not tell him?”

Ruby looked genuinely confused. “What? My eyes?”

Weiss wanted to smack herself. How could Ruby have known? “Your eyes became…  _ reddish  _ when you were fighting those Beowolves.”

Ruby looked at her incredulously. “Red? No, that’s Yang. Maybe it was the lighting, or something.”

Weiss thought back to the fit Qrow had, and figured that it’d probably be best to just leave it to him. She didn’t want to make Ruby worried anyways.

“So, what’d you guys talk about?” Ruby asked.

_ You. How I feel about you,  _ Weiss wanted to answer, but only found herself saying, “You, mostly.”

Ruby frowned— an odd thing to see her do. “Come on, I’m fine. You’re the one who we should be worried about.”

Weiss shook her head. “Ruby, you’ve been acting  _ very  _ different. It’s worrying me.  _ I  _ am fine. It’s  _ you  _ that I worry about.”

Before Ruby could respond, Weiss captured her hand in her own and began tugging her partner down the hall. “Ack! Weiss!” Ruby cried. “Where are—”

“We’re going into Vale.” Invisible to Ruby, Weiss began to blush as she worded the next part of her statement. “I’m taking you out. We’re getting food.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, this has been one of the hardest chapters (I keep saying that, don't I?), mostly due to my own mental health. I know it's not a very good excuse, but it's really the best I've got. The time I haven't been spending in class I've spent shambling around and moping. Next chapter will probably be another interlude.


	11. The Past Thrashes in my Memories

Yang felt  _ powerful.  _ Her hair was immaculate, her lips were colored a bright red, and the sleeveless yellow cheongsam showed off the slight pump she’d worked up before getting ready. She was hyped beyond belief for her date with Blake, and she couldn’t keep the bright smile off her face. Shit, was she shaking? Her Scroll buzzed, a message from her date appearing on the screen. Just seeing her name made Yang smile. According to her message, she was on her way to the docks.

The way the  _ click-clack  _ of her yellow heels resonated through the halls of Beacon made her feel like a star, and she had to fight the urge to run. She did speed her pace up, though.

Not immediately seeing Blake at the docks set off alarm bells in her head. Was Blake standing her up? No, she wouldn’t do that. Blake was better than that. Was Blake in trouble? A small flame— one she hadn’t felt at all since she’d started prepping— began to flare up inside of her. If that bastard had come back for her, she would—

“Hey.” Blake’s voice made Yang jump out of her skin and almost trip as she whirled around to see her date. She  _ was  _ going to give her an earful on sneaking up on her, but seeing Blake’s date ensemble gave her pause. In fact, it gave her more than pause, it damn near gave her a heart attack. One, she was wearing a slim turtleneck, which was great, but not the kicker. She was wearing  _ leather pants.  _ Leather fucking pants! Blake! Wait, was she talking? Shit, Yang had been too focused on the  _ leather fucking pants  _ to listen. “... before the commercials start, and they’ve got proper food service, so we can eat there or go to a restaurant after.”

Yang found herself nodding dumbly. Really, could she be expected to focus on their nightly plans while Blake was standing in all her leather pants-clad glory? Not like it mattered, right? Surely, Blake would lead her through the night, arm-in-arm, before bringing her to some romantic spot that she kept secret to everyone except Yang where she read and thought about all the roman—  _ Dust, not even Ruby rambles like this.  _ Damn, those boots were nice too, and Yang could see the muscles of her calves straining against the tight leather as she walked. Wait, when had they started walking? 

“Are you alright, Yang?” Blake asked, and it was only then that Yang realized she had been guiding her to the next airship by the hand. “You’re awfully quiet.”

Yang shook her head, bringing her attention back to the present. “Y-yeah, just a little zoned out.” She chuckled nervously.

Blake gave her an odd look as they boarded the airship. “Zoned out? That’s not like you.”

Yang blushed. Like a schoolgirl. Dust, she was smitten. “Uh, yeah, you just look… really nice.”  _ Really nice? That all you got, Xiao Long? _

Blake’s lips turned up into a lovely smile that Yang wished she could non-creepily take a picture of. Wait, would that be creepy? Maybe later… “I could never look as gorgeous as you, though.” Blake stated like it was a simple, undeniable fact of life. Fuck,  _ how is she so much better at this?  _ Apparently erotic fiction makes you some kind of charm-savant.

Yang wanted to respond in  _ any way  _ other than just blushing, but how could she? Blake was charming the pants off her! Dust, the way Blake was looking at her made her want to cry. In a good way! She looked so genuine… Those amber eyes like lighthouses in a storm. Yang felt like she was falling into them, enclosed on all sides by them.  _ Still blushing! _

Blake’s smile turned into a slightly nervous smirk. “I must be doing a good job if you’re blushing this much.”

Yang turned and hid her face in her partner’s shoulder.  _ “Please  _ don’t make fun of me.” She mumbled, her voice muffled against the fabric of the sweater.

She felt a hand ruffling her hair— and really, she  _ should  _ be angry that someone would touch her hair, but the fact that it was Blake made it feel…  _ incredibly  _ comforting. Yang leaned into it. “Sorry.” Blake whispered.

Yang hummed and pulled back, letting her head rest on Blake’s shoulder. “You’re good.” She affirmed.

Dust, she felt comfortable. The airship hummed quietly, and a couple people were muttering in their own conversations. The air was cool and crisp, and tasted faintly artificial. Blake was warm, though. And she was still running her hand through her hair.

The ride ended too quick for Yang, she could’ve stayed like that forever. The airship shook as it landed, the voice of the pilot releasing the crowd of passengers into the docks of Vale proper. The walk from the docks to the commercial district was a short one, but it was nonetheless pleasant. Vale was, as always, immaculate. The streets somehow had a perpetual freshly-paved quality to them, and the sidewalks very rarely had any kind of trash. Having her arm around Blake’s made the walk even better of course. 

Pedestrian traffic was minimal, given the late hour. Dim street lights kept the path well-lit in conjunction with the reflections from the shattered moon; It was quiet, too, the only background sound being the dull roar of cars on distant roads. 

The movie theater was tucked sneakily between a jewelry store and a much more affordable clothing store.The two walked in, flashed their tickets, and found their way to the appropriate screening room. Yang didn’t actually know which movie Blake was taking her too, she’d let the latter do all the planning, but the poster outside the room told her that it would probably be boring. It was artsy, a few scant geometrical shapes slightly transparent over a reptilian Faunus’ slit pupil. Yang didn’t get it, but Blake looked at it as if she were appraising a contemporary art piece. 

They sat in the back row of the relatively empty room. The other moviegoers mostly came in couples, but there were a few that came in alone. As the commercials ran, Yang found herself leaning as closely towards Blake as she could. She rested her head on her partner’s shoulder, and slowly laced their fingers together. 

They had opted to order a small pizza— one half pepperoni, the other half with anchovies— which was delivered around ten minutes into the movie. Yang had a really hard time paying attention to the movie, but she thought it was cool that it was in black and white. She wasn’t sure if it was one of those artistic dialogue-less films, though, since she’d spent most of the time focusing on Blake’s breathing rather than paying much attention to whether the characters were speaking or not. “Yang.” Blake whispered.

“Mhmm?” Yang replied, trying her best not to doze off against her partner.

“The movie is over.”

Yang scanned the room. Yep. Empty. “Just us.” Yang murmured.

Yang felt her nod in agreement.

“All alone in a theater.” Yang drawled.

Yang felt Blake sigh. Too much? Blake muttered something that Yang couldn’t hear, and when Yang looked at her, she found her lips being taken by Blake’s. 

In eighteen years, Yang had kissed many people. Boys, girls, a couple on the in-between. Some were good, some were bad. Now, in terms of technical ability, Blake was by no means her best; She had approached too quickly, mashing their lips together and causing a little discomfort, her hands were firmly  _ not on Yang,  _ and she didn’t seem to realize that she can breathe  _ while  _ kissing. All in all, an okay kisser. Beyond the technical basis, though, Blake was  _ easily  _ her favorite. The moment their lips touched, Yang felt reinvigorated, the fire of what was once rage alighting anew with passion. The feeling of  _ Blake  _ on her lips. Yang found herself clutching Blake’s sweater to keep herself grounded. 

Bad move.

The moment Yang got a fistful of sweater, Blake seized up, taking a sharp inhale as she froze. Yang felt a weight of dread drop into her stomach immediately, and she pulled back quickly. “Blake? Are you okay? I’m sorry.” Yang breathed out, her voice still husky.

Blake seemed to be lost, her eyes looking at something far beyond what Yang could see. Yang gingerly reached out to her, but Blake returned before she could touch her. Her amber eyes were wide with panic, her pupils having narrowed into slits. Thankfully, she wasn’t scrambling to get away, but by the way she was breathing and shaking she was clearly on the edge of doing so.

“Blake,” Yang called slowly, trying her best to keep her voice low and calm, like how she used to talk to Ruby. “Blake, it’s okay. You’re with me, we’re in a movie theater, we were kissing.”

For a few moments, Blake looked at her like she was about to pounce, and not in a good way either; more like a cornered animal about to fight. Her jaw was clenched and set forward, her ears standing tall and twitching about, and she was gripping the upholstery of the armrests so hard that the material was ripping. Yang was, quite frankly, horrified, but she tried her best to keep a calm expression. 

When it looked like Blake was just about to bolt, her eyes zeroes in on Yang’s and she let out a long, shaky exhale, her muscles relaxing as she breathed. “Y-Yang,” Her look of fear was turning into embarrassment, her face was turning red. “Dust, I’m so sorry, I—”

“No, no, no,” Yang cooed. “Don’t be sorry, it’s okay. It’s not your fault, Blake.”

Dust, Blake was crying, now. She hid her face in her palms and cried silently, her sobs wracking her body as her muffled voice came through. “We were having such— I wasn’t even having a bad time! I was happy!  _ Why?” _

“Can I hug you?” Yang asked, afraid to do it on her own and set her off again.

Blake nodded, and Yang gently took her in her arms. The position was uncomfortable, and Yang had to separate to raise the arm rest before embracing her again, but it seemed to be calming Blake down. Blake was babbling apologies, and it was all Yang could do to rub her back and mumble sweet words. A server came walking down their row towards them, but Yang kept him away with a fierce glare. “It’s okay, Blake,” Yang said softly, her gaze still boring a hole in the retreating server’s back. “Come on, let’s get up slowly and get home.”  _ Home  _ felt like a better word to use than  _ our dorm.  _

Blake nodded against her chest and got up on shaky legs, careful to keep some hold on Yang at all times. “I’m so sorry, Yang, I…” She trailed off into a sniffle and a sob. Yang just frowned and pulled her closer, making the walk a little more difficult but worth it if it made her partner feel safer.

“Do you think you can make it back to Beacon?” Yang asked. “I can pay for a hotel.”

Blake shook her head. “No, I’ll be fine, I just… I’m so sorry, Yang, I ruined our date with my—”

“You didn’t ruin our date,” Yang insisted, interrupting Blake before she could insult herself. “I had a wonderful time, and we can have another. If you want.”

“Another?” Blake asked, still not able to look up and meet Yang’s eyes.

Yang nodded. “We can have another.”

“But I might—”

“No buts.” Yang stated. “We can have another.”

It seemed like Blake wanted to say more, but Yang cut her off by humming. She hummed the lullaby Summer used to sing for Ruby, the one  _ she  _ had to sing for Ruby once her mother was gone. Thankfully, it seemed to captivate Blake, who remained silent for the rest of the trip to the Vale docks.

They drew a few stares on the ship, but the majority of passengers didn’t care much about the Faunus who buried her face in the blonde’s shoulder. To Yang, it felt like Blake was whispering something against her skin, but she very well may have drifted off to sleep. Crying  _ does  _ make one tired.

Yang would carry her back if she had to. Hopefully Ruby and Weiss were still out.

* * *

James Ironwood looked in the mirror, a frown creasing his features as he saw his reflection. Hair greying at the sides, a ghost of a beard, once-blue eyes faded almost to grey. Seemingly permanent dark rings made his eyes look sunken, and his cheeks were almost gaunt. His bare body bore the signs of wars fought, especially with… James hated it. He  _ hated  _ to see that part of himself. He should have died that day… with everyone else. That was the day Jay died, the boy with a bright, fresh face and a whole body. The boy who called his revolver  _ Pantheon  _ and said the bullets in it were his gods. He remembered when Madeline would laugh at that.  _ Madeline. Remus. Lucas.  _ They never got to be specialists…

The mirror was broken. He’d shattered it, the cuts on his knuckles told him, but he didn’t remember breaking it. They were bleeding quite a bit.. He didn’t care. Blood dripped onto the dark carpet below him, soaking into the threads for a few moments before his Aura healed the wound. He turned his back to the mirror, his eyes sweeping over the rest of the captain’s quarters. It smelled faintly of aftershave, and the rumbling hum of the  _ ANV Eisschwert  _ filled the room with white noise. The restroom door was wide open, a small amount of steam still pouring out of it, and one could easily track Ironwood’s movements via the wet footprints tracked across the carpet from the bathroom to the wardrobe.

It didn’t take him long to suit up, but it always felt like  _ ages.  _ He  _ hated  _ the monkey suit he was meant to parade around in. He missed the Specialist armor, the head-to-toe state-of-the-art suit used to make him feel like he was born and raised on the battlefield. Now, though, he felt like a child. A pawn in the Council’s games, the dog to fetch Jacques’ stick, Ozpin’s laughingstock… General James Ironwood. He scoffed. He never should’ve left the Specialists. 

Briefly, as he was buttoning his jacket, he caught something familiar in the back of the closet. Filled with a sweet nostalgia, he pulled it out and felt the soft material in his fingers. His old Specialist beret. He slowly brought it up to his face. He  _ knew  _ it didn’t smell like it used to, but some part of his mind told him that it did. A little comfort. He wanly fitted it onto his head, reveling in the feeling of wearing it again.

Almost absentmindedly, he reached into his closet again, his hand retrieving Panthe—  _ Due Process  _ from the hidden panel. He felt its weight in his hand. Heavy, full cylinder. For a few long, silent moments, he simply stood there, eyes closed, trying to remember who Jay had been. 

Nothing came.

He felt nothing. Jay was gone. Just James, now. An old man, standing like a fool in his quarters, beret on his head like he was trying to relive his glory days. Dust, what a pity. Before he realized it, he felt the cool metal of the revolver nuzzled gently against his temple. Just a little pressure was all it needed. It was his bionic half, too, so there would be  _ no mistake.  _ General James Ironwood found dead in his quarters, wearing his Specialist beret and sporting a brand new bullet wound. He inhaled deeply, feeling the revolver’s trigger give resistance against his finger. Just—

A pair of sharp knocks rapped against his door. Winter, judging by the spacing. He sighed, dropping the revolver into its appropriate holster and tossing the beret deep into his closet. He cleared his throat, trying to make it seem like he  _ hadn't  _ almost killed himself. “Specialist Schnee?”

Her voice came muffled through the door. “Permission to enter?”

“Granted.”

Winter pushed the door open and waited inside the threshold. When Ironwood gave her his attention, she bowed to a sharp 45 degree angle, her left foot slightly behind her right. The formal Atlesian salute, something Ironwood used to do for his superiors. Not many of those, now. “At ease.” Ironwood insisted.

Winter stood up straight again,  _ ramrod  _ straight, of course, as Schnees do. “I would like to thank you for allowing me to see my sis—” Winter paused, her expression shifting (only in miniscule amounts, of course, as Schnees do) to something that  _ might  _ resemble concern. “Are you okay, General?”

Ironwood stared straight into her eyes, his expression deadpan. “No, Specialist Schnee, I am not. In fact, I was just about to kill myself when you came in.”

There was a snort, a single  _ highly undignified  _ snort from Winter, and James watched her go a little red faced as she held back a bark of laughter. Specialist humor. He allowed himself a little smirk. He used to laugh at the same shit.

Winter took a fair few moments to recompose before speaking again. Couldn’t have a Schnee slipping up and almost sounding  _ human  _ while speaking, that would be unthinkable. Ironwood mentally slapped himself. Can’t blame the poor girl, blame Jacques… “As I was saying,” Winter continued. “I wanted to thank you for giving me time to see Weiss. I am in your debt.”

Great. It’s not like she’s under his employ or anything. “Excellent.” Ironwood said. “You may consider your debt erased if you go down to the mess and get me some coffee. Hazelnut, two sugars.”

Winter nodded, completely serious. “I will return shortly.” And with that, she left the room.

He was left alone again. James enjoyed having her around. The overly serious attitude could be endearing at times. If only the poor girl had been raised better, she wouldn’t have to be a Specialist. Ugh, thinking about fatherhood made his chest hurt. The gun felt heavy in its holster. He missed them.

Winter returned quickly, a steaming paper cup of coffee in her hands. Ironwood took it, giving her a grateful nod. She lingered. Schnees do that.  _ Lingering  _ until the room’s atmosphere is  _ just a little uncomfortable,  _ and only then do they keep talking. At least it was good coffee.

When the atmosphere of the room was sufficiently unbalanced, Winter spoke up. “I do have a more serious report.”

Ironwood scowled into his cup. “Go on.”

Winter looked around a little awkwardly. She wanted to sit, but the only chair Ironwood had in his room was in front of his desk. She did this  _ every time  _ she had to give him a report in his quarters. He motioned politely to the bed, which Winter took as adequate permission to take a seat at its edge. “The Vacuan ambassador to Menagerie was assassinated.”

Ironwood frowned even more deeply. “Marital?”

Winter nodded. “Larun Marital, yes.”

That was the one who waffled on about Ozpin and his ‘plans’, as if he was the only one who knew. Oz is  _ always  _ up to something. “Culprit?”

Winter cleared her throat. “He was a Hunter from Vale. That’s what the embassy guards said, and it’s what the camera footage shows. He escaped in a cargo airship, but it disappeared after it took off. No one knows where it landed.”

If he’d been holding his mug in his bionic hand, it would’ve been crushed. “A Hunter from  _ Vale?” _

“Ozpin and the Vale Council have vehemently denied sending any kind of agent.” 

“Vacuo’s response?”

“They are insisting that Ozpin is hiding the assassin, and they are demanding that he be handed over to them.”

“Is that all?”

“There are riots around the Vale embassy in Vacuo, and the Vacuan Council have threatened compliance with the rioters.”

Ironwood raised his eyebrows. “Are you sure that no one knows where the culprit is?”

“The airship he took to escape was identified, but it disappeared between Vale and Menagerie.”

“Assuming it was going to Vale.” Ironwood added.

Winter hummed in agreement. “Yes, assuming it was going to Vale. Unfortunately, there have been no reports of a ship matching its description docking  _ anywhere.  _ They could have landed on an uncharted island and swapped to a boat, they could have scuttled the airship overseas, they could have—”

“I understand. We have no clue where the perpetrator is.” Ironwood cut in.

Winter had no response, seemingly having said everything she needed to say. She stood from the bed, and offered him one more statement before moving to the door. “Thank you again, General, for letting me see Weiss.”

Ironwood waved it off. “It’s not that serious. You work too hard, anyways; I won’t begrudge you time off to see an injured family member.”

It looked like Winter wanted to object to that, but she opted to stay silent as she moved to exit.

Before she left, though, she turned to Ironwood, her face suddenly awash with conviction. Her hand smacked against the center of her chest, right over the heart. She gripped it powerfully, leaving creases in her uniform. The  _ other  _ Atlesian salute. The one that someone would only give to their fellow soldier, someone they trusted with their life, something Ironwood used to do. Not something that  _ anyone  _ would do unless they meant it.  _ It was the last thing Remus did… _

And for a second, James saw them. One of them. All of them. Where Winter was, their silhouette, each one saluting to him. Each wore their death mask. Madeline’s jaw unhinged, her face broken and covered with blood, Remus’ hand covering the hole in his chest, Lucas with his lower half missing. Their presence called to James. Some part of him wanted to be with them. The gun felt heavy in its holster.

Just like that, they disappeared as Winter shot straight up again, her heels clicking together as she spun around and left the room. Thankfully, she had left before she could see the tears welling up in James’ eyes. He wiped them away quickly. He still had work to do.


	12. Noon Encroaching

The setting sun painted Ruby’s silhouette through the window behind her. “Thanks for the ice cream, Weiss. I…” Ruby took another sugary spoonful into her mouth. “I feel a lot better now. Thanks for being, y’know, not mad or anything.”

Weiss nodded. Ice cream and sugary confectionery showed good consistency in being the way to Ruby’s heart, and from what she could tell through their link, Ruby had calmed down noticeably. “I couldn’t be mad at you, Ruby.” She stated offhandedly as she thrust a spoonful of vanilla frozen yogurt in to her mouth. Still a little too sweet, but it was one of the tamer options. 

Ruby looked down at her strawberry sundae, a little bit of red starting to show on her face. “T-thanks.”

They ate in semi-awkward silence for a few more minutes before Weiss spoke up again. “Ruby?”

Her partner looked up, her mouth too full of ice cream to do anything other than make a muffled sound of acknowledgement.

“Can you feel my Aura?” Weiss asked, giving her partner a slightly amused look as she struggled to swallow the mouthful of ice cream.

“Maybe? What do you mean?” Ruby responded, her voice muffled through the dessert in her mouth. The moment she got it down, Ruby gripped her head, a momentous brain-freeze wracking her. She hissed, rocking back and forth for a fair few moments before the pain settled, at which point she released a sigh. 

Weiss dipped her spoon into the cup of frozen yogurt, only to find it wholly bereft of its sugary contents. Perhaps that was for the best. Weiss tried to think of a way to explain the phenomenon with their Auras, but she realized that it would be easier to show her. She closed her eyes, focusing her Aura and directing it to embrace Ruby’s. Her partner jolted when they made contact, her spoon nearly knocking her sundae off the table. A now-familiar jolt of energy coursed through her, followed by a pleasant warmth. Weiss opened her eyes, and found Ruby staring back. A single rose petal had landed between them, briefly catching their gazes before fading away. 

Ruby leaned across the table, and Weiss could feel the curiosity that had taken hold of her. “How did you do that!” Her loud voice drew the eyes of the parlor’s few patrons. “I felt you!”

Weiss shushed her, slightly embarrassed at all the attention on them. “I don’t know, Ruby.” Weiss answered, her voice much quieter than her partner’s. “I think you left a part of your Aura during the infusion, or my Aura absorbed some part of yours. I’m not certain. What I know is… well, that I can do what I’ve just shown, and I can also read your emotions. As far as I’m aware, that’s all it does, though.”

Ruby didn’t fall back onto her seat, in fact, she leaned  _ even further  _ across the table. “You can read my mind?”

Weiss dropped her spoon into her empty cup. “No, Ruby,” She said, gently laying her hand on Ruby’s shoulder and pushing her back into her seat. “I cannot read your mind. I can only tell what emotions you’re feeling. For example,” Weiss closed her eyes, then opened them again when a thought struck her. “Actually, do you mind if I do this? I should’ve asked you before invading your private emotions.”

Ruby waved her off. “You probably don’t need a fancy Aura thing to know how I’m feeling. I kinda wear my heart on my sleeve, y’know? And we’ve been partners for a long time so you know me really well so it’s no different now but if you’re asking permission then yeah it’s totally fine, I mean it’s not like you’re gonna learn anything new but—”

_ “Ruby,”  _ Weiss interrupted. Truthfully, the rambling  _ could  _ be endearing, but she actually had a pertinent matter at hand. Thankfully, Ruby realized she’d been babbling and quieted down. “Thank you. I’m going to do it now, okay?” 

Ruby nodded, a tiny smile crossing her face.

Weiss closed her eyes and focused on her partner’s Aura. Finding it was akin to finding a rose in a field of snow, except this rose was dancing with excitement. Weiss gently probed it with her Aura, causing that jolt and warmth. Ruby was excited, happy, Weiss could almost  _ feel  _ her smile from across the table. The shame was still there, hidden  _ very deep  _ for the time being, and something else was burgeoning up to the surface. Weiss didn’t want to look at it.  _ Not yet.  _ She slowly opened her eyes, and found her partner blushing. “Are you okay?” Weiss asked.

Ruby nodded, looking away. “Y-yeah, I could, uh, I think I could feel your emotions, too. Only when they were…  _ touching, _ though.”

Weiss hummed. Interesting. “It also seems to generate petals, like your Semblance. Well, one petal, at least.”

“Yeah, this one landed in your hair.” Ruby said, pointing towards the heiress’ head.

Weiss gently felt around her head for the petal, only to catch it as it was fading.

They sat in silence again, with Ruby finishing up the remnants of her sundae before dutifully scooping the fudge from the bottom of the cup and shoving it into her mouth. Weiss shivered. How that poor girl wasn’t at least a  _ little  _ overweight, Weiss couldn’t fathom.

As they walked back to the Vale docks, Ruby seemed to get downtrodden and pensive again. Weiss considered addressing it, but Ruby spoke up first. “Weiss, can I ask you something about your arm?”

Weiss hid her shock with behind her best attempt at a comforting smile. “Of course.”

Ruby nodded, then took a couple deep breaths before speaking again. “When you get your replacement, would you mind if I, uh… Dust, it feels so wrong to ask this.” Ruby’s face scrunched up. “Never mind, ignore me. I’m weird.”

Weiss sidled up more closely to her and laid her hand on her shoulder. “It’s fine, Ruby. You can ask whatever you want, I’m fine with it. I promise.”

Ruby gave her an apologetic look before gathering up the courage to ask again. “Would you mind if I… tinkered with your arm?”

Weiss recoiled, taken aback by her partner’s request. “Pardon?"

Ruby buried her hands in her face, and Weiss could feel her shame welling up again. “Never mind!” She shouted, her voice muffled through her hands.

Ruby wanted to  _ tinker  _ with her  _ bionic arm?  _ That sounded… risky. She could see the benefits, though. After all, she  _ had  _ created Crescent Rose, a weapon of  _ considerable  _ technological marvel, proving her mechanical mastery,  _ and  _ her creation of Rosenwache showed that she also had noteworthy competence in the infusion of Dusts. Still, quite risky, especially since she only had one replacement.  _ Actually…  _ “I think that would be an excellent idea, Ruby.”

Ruby’s head whipped around to face Weiss with frightening speed. “Really?” 

Weiss could feel her shame fading slightly, giving way to excitement. “I could have Winter order an extra, one with which you could tinker to your heart’s desire.”

Ruby was beaming, now, her excitement handily overtaking her shame. “Thank you!” She shouted, drawing a little attention from the other pedestrians on their way to the docks. She wrapped an arm around Weiss’ shoulders and clutched Weiss’ hand with her own. “Thank you so much! It’s gonna be so cool!” Ruby separated from her and began bouncing as they continued down the sidewalk. “I could make it transform into a sword at will, or use aerosolized dust, or make it into a shotgun, Dust, I could do so much neat stuff!”

Weiss watched her babble with a fond smile. Finally something positive related to her arm, or lack thereof. 

Ruby began to slow down as a thought struck her, and she walked at Weiss’ pace as she tapped her chin. She began mumbling to herself, rapidly muttering technical phrases and components that flew completely over Weiss’ head. The mechanic within Ruby was taking over, her face growing more serious as she thought about the actual implementation of her various concepts. Weiss felt a smile creeping onto her face.

It didn’t last long, though. She found her smile fading as she watched her partner’s bright silver eyes darting along with Ruby’s muttering. That feeling in her chest, like a warm swell in her heart, reminded her that she  _ had  _ to talk to Ruby. She  _ had  _ to do something to get these feelings out. What was so hard about it? She had the feelings in her heart, but she couldn’t transliterate them to cohesive thought, let alone speech! Dust, what a predic— 

“So, Weiss, was that what you called  _ courtship?”  _ Ruby’s question cut through Weiss’ thoughts like a scythe through the arm. “Taking me out to ice cream to make me feel better?”

“Uh…” Weiss found herself in a rare moment of speechlessness. She turned to Ruby, who was staring ahead with a red face.  _ Had  _ she just courted Ruby? Did ice cream count? “I… Did you… um…”

“It was nice.” Ruby said, the muscles of her jaw clenched as she struggled to keep from turning to her partner. “Thank you.”

Weiss didn’t know how to respond. She just nodded, not trusting her mouth to keep its loyalties straight. They boarded the airship in silence, a tense silence, the interaction causing them to both blush every time they brushed up against each other or locked eyes. Eventually, though, they were freed from the stuffy, tense atmosphere by the pilot’s voice announcing their landing.

Of course, the walk back to their dorm led to another stuffy, tense atmosphere, just a more familiar one. 

They found the RWBY dorm empty and dark. Yang and Blake were both out, doing… something. They hadn’t exactly been clear in the text. In fact, Weiss described the wording of the text as  _ deliberately vague  _ when it appeared on her Scroll.

Weiss walked towards her desk, perfectly used to studying in darkness, when Ruby addressed her. “So, Weiss, do you… you know, uh—”

Weiss raised a hand, cutting her partner off. “Please, Ruby, I don’t know how to say what I need to say. I’ll only hurt you if I speak without properly articulating my emotions.”

Ruby’s shoulders drooped, and her voice came back notably more melancholic. “Can’t you write it down?”

Truthfully, Weiss hadn’t thought of that. “I… haven’t tried that.”

Ruby’s silence belied the torrent of emotions Weiss could feel across their link. “Will you?” 

Weiss nodded slowly, confident that Ruby could see her in the darkened room. She didn’t wait to see Ruby’s response as she took a seat at her desk and began the now-arduous work of getting out her study materials. At least she was left-handed.

Before she could crack open her Dust Theory textbook, a pair of warm arms slowly snaked around her, pulling her into Ruby’s embrace. “I’m so sorry, Weiss,” Ruby whispered. “I swear I’ll make it up to you. I’ll be the best partner, I promise.”

Weiss took her hand away from the textbook’s cover, instead opting to lay it on Ruby’s arm. She wanted  _ so desperately  _ to give some suave response,  _ something  _ to show how much she appreciated her partner, but she found herself choking on every word. All that she could do was lean back into Ruby’s embrace.

They only stayed like that for a couple minutes before Ruby stepped back, silent as she walked away from Weiss and climbed into her bunk. She fell asleep quickly, her tiny, breathy snores filling the room. Prepared for such a distraction, Weiss gathered her pair of earplugs from the center drawer and stuffed them in her ears, blocking out the noise.  _ Dust Theory- Chapter Eighteen: Advanced Dust Manipulation Without a Catalyzing Medium… _

Weiss jolted awake, her head almost having made contact with the desk as she dozed. She looked down at the desk below her, barely catching her pen as it rolled towards the edge. 

At some point during studying, she had abandoned the Dust Theory textbook in favor of taking Ruby’s suggestion to heart. The sheet of notebook before her was a composition of whatever her mind could spill out in regards to Ruby. One part of it recorded her reaction to Ruby’s presence in an almost clinical manner, describing how her heart rate rose and she felt heat climbing through her chest. Another part was written more hastily, like the scrawling of a man on the brink of a psychotic break. They bounced between aspects of Ruby that she appreciated, leaping between more objective points on her appearance, how Weiss found her attractive, then moving frantically towards how many times she wished Ruby could be with her during her summer in Atlas.

Weiss barely recognized what she had written at the bottom of the paper. Words were written haphazardly, crossing or simply ignoring the horizontal lines of the notebook paper, highly unorthodox for a Schnee. Weiss’ tired eyes scanned over what she had written, trying to stoke whatever part of her memory had created such prose.

_ Seeing you like this has made me realize how much I need to see you smile,  _ The paper read.  _ You’ve made me so used to your jubilance that anything else makes something ache in me. I want—  _ The rest of the sentence was scribbled out.  _ I need—  _ Scribbled out, again.  _ I want to make you happy, because I need to be with you. You are what has made me good— or better, at least. Being without you is like being without my Aura. It feels s—  _ The last letter trailed off, a sign that that had been the moment she dozed off. 

As much as Weiss wanted to continue writing, she knew that she had written all she needed to. She had tried her best to pour her heart onto the paper, now she just had to pour her heart out to her partner. She could use the paper like a script, or an outline, something to keep her mind on track.

Now, though, she needed to go to bed. She could feel the sleepiness weighing on her eyelids, threatening to drag her down to sleep on the desk again. Not an opportune situation at all. Weiss left her earplugs in the desk, then rose and made the short walk to her bunk. She slipped under the covers, laid her head on her pillow, and was immediately thrust into sleep.

* * *

Ruby had never met Adam Taurus, she only knew him from the barest descriptions provided to her by Blake and Yang, along with a couple passing remarks by Sun. Somehow, she knew this was him, despite how wildly different he looked compared to what she’d pictured. He stood tall, imposing, clad in flowing black robes which hung off one shoulder, leaving the left side of his bare chest exposed. His horns, although described by Blake as ‘small and stubby’, were relatively large, curving out and forwards like his namesake. They were still, as Blake had described, black. 

Most intimidating, however, was his sword. Blake had said he carried a  chokutō, but Ruby’s extensive knowledge of weaponry classified it as a nodachi. How they could be confused, Ruby couldn’t imagine. A nodachi isn’t exactly subtle, after all. Adam’s sword was easily longer than Ruby was tall, its blade alone was at least over five feet in length, and it was colored a deep,  _ bloody  _ red. He carried it to the side in one hand, allowing its tip to tear the carpet as he walked towards Ruby.

_Carpet?_ Ruby’s eyes darted around in a panic. She found herself in one of Beacon’s many hallways, although she couldn’t tell which one. She reached under her cloak, drawing her weapon from its magnetic holster. What she didn’t expect to find in her hand was her uncle’s Harbinger instead of Crescent Rose, and, for some reason, its hilt and the bottom of its blade were covered in blood. Ruby dropped it the moment she realized what it was, but the blood was already on her hands. 

Ruby felt herself going into a panic. She  _ knew  _ that Adam was getting close, she could  _ feel  _ it, but she couldn’t touch Harbinger with it again. Had Qrow killed someone? Whose blood was it? Why did she have it? Did  _ she  _ kill someone? 

Ruby hurriedly patted herself down, hoping desperately to find _something_ with which to defend herself. Luckily, she found something holstered at her left side. She pulled it free of its frog— _wait, where’s the magnetic clip?_ _—_ and found herself wielding Rosenwache. Its blade was broken, but it would have to do.

_ He’s here!  _ Ruby’s mind screamed at her, the presence of Adam overwhelming. She looked up, finding him mere feet away from her, already a quarter into an overhead slash.

Ruby the main-gauche up, but her inexperience with the weapon proved to be her downfall. She met the nodachi with the cup of the hilt, the brief moment of relief broken as it sliced clean through the hilt, down into her arm, slicing it vertically in two, the fleshy halves drooping independently of each other as the dead fingers dropped Rosenwache. Ruby  _ knew  _ she was screaming, but she couldn’t feel it. She couldn’t feel any pain, either. She simply dropped to her knees and clutched the strangely-not-bleeding arm because she felt it was the appropriate thing to do. 

Ruby saw the face of her mother again, taking up her entire field of vision. Summer’s mangled mouth was moving, but no words were coming out. The vision faded away, revealing that Ruby was actually in a forest. A wintery forest. She was lying in the snow, her split arm miraculously whole again. No, wait, not whole.  _ Gone.  _ Gone at the shoulder, which ended in a mangled stump. Her legs, too, were torn at mid-thigh. Ruby tried to move, finding her only intact limb being her left arm, which weakly flailed in the snow. The pure, white snow. Not at all tainted with her blood. 

Ruby strained to look around, but found herself wishing she hadn’t. Blake was face-down in the snow next to her, likely in a similar state to Ruby, but she couldn’t tell to what degree. Yang rushed to Blake and flipped her over, shaking her shoulders vigorously and crying. It was then that Ruby realized that Weiss was also there, crouched over Ruby and looking down at her with an entirely broken expression. Her hands shakily hovered over her body, one of which was distinctly bionic. Before Ruby could say anything to her, she felt a surge of energy the moment Weiss touched her, followed by heat.

Ruby’s eyes snapped open as she suddenly awoke. She was in her top bunk, still, but she was curled up in the foetal position. Weiss was on her tiptoes, her hand gently on Ruby’s upper arm. She met Ruby’s eyes and whispered, careful not to awaken Yang and Blake, who had arrived while Ruby was asleep. “You were having a nightmare, I could feel it. Are you okay?”

Ruby exhaled shakily and nodded. The memory of her dreams faded quickly, along with the fear they had wrought. 

Weiss reached up and stroked her hair a few times, concern and fondness shining behind her cerulean eyes. “Goodnight, Ruby.” She whispered as she separated from her partner.

“G’night, Weiss.” Ruby muttered, allowing herself to relax into a more comfortable sleeping position as sleep took her again.

Thankfully, she slept without trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry guys, I've not been very inspired lately, but I'm really trying to get updates out nonetheless. That's probably to my detriment. C'est la vie.


	13. Deaths, Large and Little

The acrid scent of burning flesh was something Cinder had become accustomed to long ago, to the point where she even found herself basking in it. It was like a sharp incense, something that burned her nostrils and kept her focus on the job at hand. It wasn’t a difficult task, but it was a repetitive one. Burning flesh to the bone tends to take a while, but the limb granted to her by her patron would make the work more than worthwhile. Of course, simply attaching the arm as it was meant to be attached would work just fine in most circumstances, and would cause far less pain in the long run. However, Cinder was aiming for something different. Pain was _not_ to be avoided, in fact, she saw it as necessary to the next step in the process. What process?

The process of breaking Adam Taurus, of course.

Cinder hummed as she admired her work. She had replaced both of his arms and legs with semi-bionic counterparts. They were slick and black, glistening, even. The new hands ended in long, sharp nails, and the surface of the arms felt like flesh. The legs, too, had the same quality, save for the fact that they were much more human-like. Cinder’s patron had formed them herself, knowing what would happen to Adam and ordering her to affix them to his corpse, along with something else.

Cinder cut off her connection to the fire dust adorning her clothes, causing the fire on her hands to extinguish. Instead, she picked up a nearby rod, using her semblance to change its shape and granting it dozens of extremely fine, extremely sharp points on the end.

Cinder went to work, tapping the end into Adam’s cold, dead skin. As she lanced dozens of holes in his body, she sprinkled an incredibly fine Dust into them. The Dust she used was a deep, roiling black that felt _wrong_ to look at. She dusted it into the wounds, creating long, jagged markings that one might see as a set of ugly, thick tattoos. They were more than that, of course. The Dust she used had been purified by her patron who, and Cinder chuckled to herself at this, had more than a little experience with death.

The process was tedious, but Cinder enjoyed her work. It reminded her of when she used to— **_She couldn’t breathe; the hands around her neck kept her from hacking as the fist drove into her gut—_ **

Cinder was snapped out of her reverie by the sound of the door opening. She didn’t turn to look, but she knew it was Emerald and Mercury; her two amusing stooges. “Yo, Cin—” Mercury started, but doubled over as he and Emerald gagged. “Fucking _Dust_ , what is that smell!”

Cinder smiled wryly, not bothering to look up from her work as she spoke, her voice resonating with languid, seductive tones. “Come and see.”

After sharing a dubious glance, Emerald and Mercury reluctantly approached the raised metal slab that Cinder was working at. “Is that—” Mercury blurted out, only to be cut off by a smack in the arm from Emerald.

Cinder chuckled as she took an appraising glance over her work. “It is, isn’t it? It’s quite up in the air as to whether he’ll know that, though.”

Emerald leaned over Cinder’s shoulder, laying a hand on her back to keep her steady. Cinder’s grin almost faltered at the contact, but she fought the urge to bat it away. “What happened?” Emerald whispered.

Cinder leaned back, admiring the black markings scrawled into the Faunus’ skin before her. They curved and twisted around his torso in jagged black lines, some lines beginning and ending abruptly, others coiling around his body and covering much of his deathly pale flesh. “Abraham killed him.”

Mercury snorted. “Shouldn’t there be, like, claw marks and shit?”

Cinder chuckled. “Not in this case, no.”

Emerald backed away from Cinder and eyed Mercury. “Then what _happened?”_

Cinder slowly stood from her chair and dragged her fingers along the markings, careful not to mar her work. “After assassinating Larun Marital, he escaped in a ship that Abraham had rigged to explode. Adam was becoming too volatile, and Abraham took the opportunity to be rid of one of his liabilities. Of course, my patron saw this coming, and she dispatched me to fish his body out of the sea.”

Mercury piped up, his voice high with disbelief. “Uh, _why?”_

“Doesn’t he hate you?” Emerald added.

Cinder smirked. “Oh, he most certainly does.”

Mercury groaned. Cinder’s variety of ambiguity never was his cup of tea. “Why did you even do this? He’s _dead.”_

Cinder continued tracing her fingers along his body. “Death is temporary for—”

“Temporary for the followers of Salem, yadda yadda, so, what, you’re gonna resurrect this dude or some shit?” Mercury interrupted, earning a sharp jab in the ribs from Emerald’s elbow. Fortunately for him, Cinder opted _not_ to show him the punishment for insolence.

“Resurrection is a very polite term.” Cinder drawled in a slightly mocking tone. “But I suppose it captures the essence of my— _our_ work.”

Mercury just gave her a confused look. “ _Our?”_ Emerald asked.

Cinder nodded. “My patron has granted me this purified Dust as a means of dragging his Aura back to his body, regardless of consent.”

“And, what, you decided to tattoo him for practice or—” This time, he did earn a firm smack from Cinder, her long nails leaving redder marks on his quickly reddening cheek.

“This is not a _tattoo!”_ Cinder shouted through grit teeth. How desperately she wanted to _disembowel_ that silver-haired idiot, her fingers _itched_ to wrap around that boy’s neck. No, not yet, for the moment she had to compose herself. “These,” She continued, her voice much calmer. “Are like nails. I have engraved his skin with this purified Dust, and it will be what pins his Aura to his body.”

Mercury spoke up again as he rubbed his stricken cheek, this time in a much more respectful tone. “So what are you going to do with him? Doesn’t he hate you?”

Cinder turned back to the corpse of Adam Taurus. “I assure you, he will know his master.”

* * *

“No, Blake, don’t leave!” Adam cried, reaching out as he kneeled. He was nursing a shallow cut across the chest, gifted to him when he’d tried to grab Blake. 

Blake sneered at him, Gambol Shroud shaking in her hand as she pointed the barrel at his head. One bullet wouldn’t pierce his Aura, but Blake was a good shot. She’d be able to get at least a few off before he could reach her with Wilt. “I can’t do this anymore, Adam! We’re not what we used to be!”

“Blake, I love you as much as I always have!” Adam shouted, his voice resonating in the empty warehouse.

Blake groaned. “I’m not talking about you, Adam! Dust, you were always so self-centered. I’m talking about the _White Fang._ It’s a gang of killers, now!”

“We can mak—”

“We can’t make shit happen!” Blake screamed suddenly, causing Adam to flinch. “Because of you! Dust, Adam, you’re the worst of them all! You’re a monster!”

“I am—” Adam tried to rise up, but he was forced back down as a round deflected off of his Aura, right between his eyes. 

“Don’t you _dare_ move a muscle.” Blake seethed. “I am _leaving._ If you try to come after me, I _will_ kill you. I won’t hesitate.”

Adam could see that her shaking hand belied the truth of the latter statement. She was _scared._ He could hear it in her voice, which shook like a leaf as she threatened him. She couldn’t do it. She _couldn’t._

In a flash, Adam leapt towards Blake, hand ready to pull Wilt free fro—

Adam saw one last muzzle flash, and found himself on his knees again.

“No, Blake, don’t leave!” He cried, one hand reaching out from his kneeling position. The cut across his chest was shallow, but the pain of betrayal stung more than it ever could on its own.

Blake’s nose upturned and her lip quirked, forming a sneer of disgust as she levelled the barrel of Gambol Shroud with his head. “I can’t do this anymore, Adam!” She cried, tears dripping down her cheeks. “We’re not what we used to be!”

Adam found himself reeling with a sense of deja vu. “Blake, the White Fang _needs_ you!” 

Blake frowned, her teary eyes burning with anger. “Then I hope it dies without me.”

She was going to leave, Adam knew. She was about to turn around and leave, which he _couldn’t_ let happen. She’d be lost without him! She’d end up dead! Adam slowly rose to his feet, only to find himself scrambling back to his knees as a bullet deflected off his Aura, squarely between his eyes.

“Don’t you _dare_ move a muscle.” Blake hissed, the barrel of Gambol Shroud smoking and shaking in Blake’s trembling grasp. “I am _leaving._ If you try to come after me, I _will_ kill you. I won’t hesitate.”

A distant burning feeling in the middle of Adam’s forehead told him she wasn’t lying. Slowly, in the most non-threatening way he could manage, Adam removed his belt, taking his weapon with it as he cast it to the side. “Please, Blake, don’t leave. You’re going to get hurt, I _can’t_ let you get hurt.”

Blake suddenly turned from angry to enraged. Her jaw clenched as she took a few steps closer to Adam and pressed the hot barrel of Gambol Shroud to his forehead. “ _You_ are the one that always hurts me! You’re a monster! How many people have you needlessly killed!”

“They were—”

Blake’s arm moved in a flash, belting Adam across the face with her pistol. His Aura absorbed most of the strike, but he still found himself tasting copper. “It doesn’t matter who they were!” Blake shrieked. “They were people! Thinking, feeling, living people and you slaughtered them!”

Adam tried to speak up, but Blake beat him to it.

She pressed the barrel harder against his forehead. “I should kill you. For everything you’ve done, I should kill you right now.” 

“I was doing what’s right.” Adam said, his voice slightly muffled with his swollen cheek. “You couldn’t understan—”

Again, the pistol smacked against his face. His Aura gave way, this time, along with one of his teeth. He cried out, blood and a molar flying from his mouth. “I am a Faunus, too!” Blake cried. “I understand! The difference between you and me, though, is that _I_ don’t kill people!”

“You’re not _perfect.”_ Adam hissed, looking up at Blake with a bloodstained grimace.

“There it is,” Blake said. “The real you. You don’t _love_ me. You just _want_ me.”

Rage pumped through Adam’s veins as he shot upwards, hands wrapping around Gambol Shroud before Blake could ventilate his skull. Blake pulled twice, one bullet grazing Adam’s collar and the other flying harmlessly into the ceiling as they wrestled over the gun. Adam was able to wrench it from her grip, but a snap-kick from Blake sent it flying from his hands and sliding away across the concrete floor. With his Aura broken from two pistol-whips, Blake’s kick shattered the bones in Adam’s left hand. 

Adam cried out and stumbled backwards, cradling his now-useless hand against his chest. With the time granted to her, Blake leapt for her gun.

Of course, Adam tried to stop her. He was met with a muzzle flash.

“No, Blake, don’t leave!”

“We’re not what we used to be!”

“I love you, Blake!”

Muzzle flash.

“No, Blake, don’t leave!”

“We’re not what we used to be!”

“There has—”

Muzzle flash.

“No, Blake—”

Muzzle flash.

Four minutes. The worst four minutes of Adam’s life, over and over again. Every option explored, every word said, every action just left Adam on his knees again, crying, “No, Blake, don’t leave!”

The muzzle flash came eventually.

“No, Blake, don’t leave!” Adam cried, his eyes twisted shut in anticipation of the next living memory.

A languid, seductive voice answered him. “I won’t leave you, Adam Taurus.”

Adam’s eyes shot open. Cinder hovered over him, a wry, faux-polite smile on her face. Adam thrashed, but his restraints kept his back against the cold metal slab. Cinder smiled cruelly as he struggled against the restraints. 

Adam blurt out all of his questions at the same time, resulting in more of a garbled cry rather than an actual question.

Cinder gently cupped his cheek. “Hello.” Her voice trailed, dripping with saccharine tones.

Adam writhed, trying to break through his restraints. “Let me go, you bitch. Get me out of this shit!”

Cinder chuckled. “I assure you, darling, you’ll learn to love your restraints.”

Adam sneered. “What the fuck?” He half-shouted, more insults ready to be hurled when a wave of memory crashed into him. Abraham had fucked him. He’d given him one last job and fucked him! Adam strained against his constraints, eager to wring that wolf’s neck. 

“In case you can’t tell, you’re not dead anymore. My patron has decided that you will be useful, and she has granted you life beyond death, so long as you ally yourself with her.” Cinder said, not faltering slightly in her sickly sweet tones.

Adam wrenched against the bonds holding him— thick chains, he realized. As he pulled against them, however, he noticed a strange sense of presence about him. He felt slightly disconnected, like the feeling of strain was secondary, like he was watching himself strain instead of feeling it firsthand. He pulled harder. There was pain, but it didn’t feel like his own.

Suddenly, Cinder was close again. _Very_ close. Their noses were almost touching, and Adam could smell her— an overwhelming scent of ash. “You won’t try to escape, will you?” She whispered.

Adam tugged hard against his constraints, suddenly bashing his forehead against Cinder’s nose. She recoiled, stepping back and hissing as she held her nose.

“That was a mistake.” She intoned, the painfully sweet voice now giving way to a deeper, resentful tone. “I will show you why.”

Cinder’s hands moved out of Adam’s line of sight, but he felt them taking hold of his arm. Cinder yanked, _hard,_ tearing the prosthetic limb from its socket and ripping the skin that had bonded to it, leaving a fleshy stump of flayed, bleeding muscle and integument.

Adam’s hoarse cry ripped at his throat and he thrashed fruitlessly against his constraints. No amount of disconnection from his senses could lessen such overwhelming pain.

Shock pervaded him as Cinder held up his arm— or what _should_ be _his_ arm. Rather, it was some black, glistening limb, its fingers long and clawed. What had she done? Had he been left so unsalvageable, or had Cinder cleaved his mangled limbs off and replaced them with these monstrous facsimiles? Adam grit his teeth, muffled growls pressing through as the waves of pain ebbed from his torn arm.

Cinder watched him writhe in pain, a cruel smirk on her face as she gently stroked the limb in her hands. “Out of the frying pan, into the fire, eh?” She joked, her laugh resonating with cruel mirth.

“I will fucking kill you!” Adam cried.

Cinder tutted and dropped to eye level with Adam’s bleeding stump of an arm. She made a show out of slowly reaching for it before roughly shoving the prosthetic arm into its socket again. She chuckled as Adam cried out and thrashed once more against his chains. Her hands flashed alight with flame, which she used to quickly cauterize the skin again. Adam’s cries gradually wore his throat until all he could release were hisses and whispered screams. He felt a shock as his Aura flared, bonding the flesh of his arm to the new limb and extending his feeling to the tips of his new fingers.

“What did you do to me?” Adam managed to say between labored breaths.

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Cinder stand again and bend over, laying a soft kiss to his cheek from which Adam recoiled. “My patron has saved you, Adam. She has gifted to me the Dust that will keep you alive.” She ran her hand across the black markings on his chest. “That Dust is inside you, now. It is…” She straightened suddenly, her mouth twisting to the side as she searched for a word. “Anchoring? No, that’s too passive. _Lashing._ Yes, this Dust has _lashed_ your Aura to your body. You are essentially a bag of dead meat tugged along by the puppet-strings of your Aura, and in case you haven’t noticed, your heart is not beating. You are, for all intents and purposes, _dead.”_

Adam craned his neck to look down at himself, his eyes narrowing as he saw the scrawlings on his torso and his oily black appendages. “This is…”

Cinder smirked. “Impossible?”

Adam remained quiet, which Cinder took as a sign of acquiescence. “That’s a good boy,” She cooed, running a hand through his crimson locks. “Silence is good, Adam. You are accepting your situation.”

Adam growled, earning him a slap across the face.

“Now, Adam,” Cinder said as she stood up straight again. “Your situation is not exactly fortunate, is it?”

Adam glared at her.

Cinder smirked in reply. “I thought not. Abraham, no, the entire White Fang has abandoned you. Tell me, who can you turn to?”

Adam felt a name forcing its way past his lips before he could stop it. “Blake.”  


Cinder just stared at him for a few long, silent moments before suddenly bursting into laughter. She doubled over, her arms crossed against her stomach as she belted each cruel bark. “The traitor?” She breathed out, fading waves of laughter causing her voice to jump. “She wants you _dead,_ you idiot!”

Rage coursed through Adam’s veins, pushing him against his constraints. Unfortunately for him, they remained strong.

Cinder comically wiped a tear from her eye. “Oh, Adam, I like you,” She sighed. “You are truly entertaining. But no,” Her face suddenly lost all sense of humor. “You have no one.”

Adam grit his teeth, holding back a biting reply.

“You little imbecile. No, she doesn't love you. But don’t worry,” Adam could hear the cruel smile in her voice. “I will find someone new for you to love.” Cinder leaned close again, staring into his eyes and daring him to speak.

Adam did the only thing he could with his anger, and mustered it to spit in Cinder’s face. She blinked as the spittle landed on her cheek, but her sly smirk remained. Adam’s mouth hung open and he watched in disgust as Cinder languidly wiped it away with the back of her hand, then proceeded to lap it up.

Cinder’s hand slowly dropped to the murky surface of his arm, her fingers drifting upwards until they were just under his chin. “Now, Adam, you’re going to enjoy this. You _will.”_ Her fingers drifted upwards again, and she slipped them into his mouth. “Or else.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had to reorient my outline, sorry it took so long. I so often lose myself in the actual writing that I abandon the outline and continue one what feels right, often changing the course of a lot of shit.


End file.
